What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander
by dinkydow
Summary: Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the affer effects of their time with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.
1. Chapter 1

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander"

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "Crossroads and Consequences Part 1-3", hurt/comfort, drama.

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **None really, but it will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Thud Alert! Some language and implied nudity as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** "You Raise Me Up" is written and sung by Josh Groban. Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

General Jack O'Neill muttered in his sleep, his head jerking from side to side in denial of the images that played like a movie screen inside his head. "No."

His legs churned on the bed inside his quarters at the SGC, tangling in the sheet draped loosely over his body. Jack's eyelids twitched, betraying the rapid eye movement that was physical evidence of his brain's dream state. Beads of sweat popped out on his forehead, collected, and then ran down the side of his face to pool in his ears. His already damp t-shirt clung to his heaving chest.

He groaned and shook his head. "You've got me, send her back." His arms jerked spasmodically, pushing against an unseen foe. A whimper escaped dry lips. "No, you promised." His body twisted as he kicked futilely against the tangled sheets.

A scream echoed in the room. "Noo!" Jack abruptly sat up in bed, his eyes wide in fear as he swept the empty room in panic. His raspy breaths almost drowned out the sound of the blood pounding in his ears.

The door flew open, and revealed the SF that had been assigned to guard his door by General Hammond. His gun was drawn as he swept the room with his eyes. "General O'Neill?"

Jack's eyes were still wide with fear and confusion. "What?"

Seeing no one in the room except his charge, the SF relaxed his alert stance and lowered his gun. "You screamed, General." He took another step inside the room, leaving the door open. "Are you all right?"

Jack huffed as he tried to get his breathing under control. "Yeah, guess so." He scrubbed his face with his hands, wiping away sweat from his face. He looked at his wet hands and then dried them on his boxers. "Bad dream, that's all." He waved away any assistance as he untangled the sheets that imprisoned his legs. Jack smiled in embarrassment as he rose on shaky legs and walked toward the bathroom.

"Sir?" The male SF seemed uncertain.

Jack turned. "At ease, son." He raised an eyebrow. "If you don't mind . . .," he gestured toward the open bathroom door.

"Oh, sorry, sir." The door snicked closed, cutting off the light from the hallway.

Jack mechanically turned on the water in the bathroom sink, his mind far away as he attempted to sort out the remnants of his dream versus reality. The sound of running water caught his attention. He dipped cupped hands under the steady stream to scoop cold water over his lowered face, which left him gasping.

Jack raised his dripping face to gaze at his reflection in the mirror. Haunted dark brown eyes rimmed with blood-shot whites were underscored with dark pouches. His high cheekbones no longer accented a lean face; instead he stared at the face of a death-camp survivor.

'Crap! The Doc isn't going to like this. So much for gaining back that weight and getting off restricted duty. It's not my fault if the food they serve here tastes like crap, is it?'

He shuddered as he realized he hadn't looked that bad since Iraq. Jack grabbed the hand towel and scrubbed his face roughly, and reveled in the sensation as it grounded him to what was real. Towel in hand, he shuffled back toward his bed and then stopped. The clock on the table read 0315 hours.

"Ah, what's the use," Jack muttered as he headed back for the bathroom. Once there he hung up the towel and stripped off his boxers and shirt. "There's lots of important paperwork waiting for you anyway," he added with a wince of distaste.

'Crap, just thinking about all that damned paperwork and those requisitions makes my stomach ache.'

He gulped and swallowed convulsively as bile rose from his stomach, scalding his throat. Jack stared at the sink and splashed cold water on his face in the hope that the insidious fear that cobwebbed his brain would disappear. His brain retrieved the sickening details of his latest nightmare as Fifth's words saturated and controlled his thoughts.

Fifth smirked. "I've still got the real Samantha, you know."

Jack's eyes widened. "No, you promised to send her back."

Fifth's eyes glittered with rage. "Just like you promised to wait for me? To take me with you?"

Jack searched the room and saw what looked like Carter's evil twin cowering in the corner. He shook his head. No, that wasn't how it'd happened. Was it? Fifth had kept his word and sent the real Carter back. That had been their bargain, he would stay and endure . . . whatever Fifth wanted in return for her freedom. But now, Fifth was saying that he'd sent back her evil twin, and that Carter was still here, with them. It couldn't be, could it? He sniffed the air and inhaled that special fragrance that he'd grown to know and love.

Jack screamed. "No!"

He blinked his eyes and realized with a start that he was still staring at the mirror, seemingly mesmerized by his gaunt reflection. The water was still running in the sink. With a shake of his head he turned it off, then ran a shaky hand through his hair.

He continued his own tirade and muttered. "You might as well just shower and get back to work. There's no way in hell you'll get any sleep now." He reached in and turned on the shower.

Jack stepped under the hot water and let it cascade down his back as he leaned his forehead against the tiled wall. Tense neck and back muscles responded to the pounding water and gradually unknotted.

He sighed in relief. "God, I needed that."

Grabbing the soap and a washcloth, he worked up a generous lather. Jack turned and soaped up his face and his hair. One advantage to such short hair was being able to substitute soap for expensive shampoos that usually smelled like a fricking flower shop anyway. He sighed with pleasure as the hot water kneaded his scalp, cascading down his back to drip off his buttocks and swirl down the drain as it washed away more than just dirt.

His chest was next as he scrubbed his muscles vigorously. His tense abdominal muscles gradually loosened under his ministrations. He sucked in his gut, eyed his six-pack, and smirked.

'Not bad for an old fart, the crunches are paying off.'

Though the Doc had complained that there was no fat at all left on his body, warning him that his muscles would deteriorate next if he didn't start eating, she'd even prescribed some of those nasty tasting protein shakes for him. Jack had responded by pouring them down the toilet in his quarters.

He lathered up his washcloth again and attacked his legs and feet. The warm water felt good. Installing that shower massage in his personal quarters at the SGC had been a great idea, he mused. Josh had even insisted on installing it himself.

The pounding of the hot water combined with the washcloth provoked a half-hearted arousal in his groin. The normally welcome feeling brought with it evil memories.

Jack shuddered as the specters that haunted his dreams revisited him. In revulsion, he scrubbed at his face and torso in a vain effort to wash away the remembrance of how he'd been violated by Carter's evil Replicator twin. When this attempt at cleansing failed, he sighed and studied his reddened, almost raw skin, the clear result of many such frantic scrubbings.

"Crap!" The wadded washcloth thudded against the tile wall.

Mesmerized, Jack watched the washcloth slide to the shower floor and then turned and adjusted the knobs. A clicking noise spun him around and he glared at the washcloth lying crumpled in a heap in the tiled corner. Eyes narrowed, he nudged the wet terrycloth rag with a wary toe. It slumped over, but did nothing more. Jack huffed a pent-up breath, relieved that it hadn't sprouted metallic legs and scuttled away like one of Fifth's pet bugs.

He looked up sharply when he heard the same chirring noise and jumped when the showerhead spurted a jet of hot water. "Holy crap!" he hissed dodging the too hot stream of liquid. Warily, he extended one arm and shut off the hot water tap. Jack leaned into the water and stood with legs apart, his arms propping him up as the now frigid water hit his back.

Jack quivered as the cold water peppered his back and then his upturned face. Fully awake and aware now, he twisted the knobs off, jerked open the steamed up shower door and grabbed a towel. With economic movements, he efficiently dried himself off, but his mind was far away.

With a final scrub to his face and hair, he draped the towel around his hips and snagged a can of shaving cream. He smeared the creamy lather over his whiskers, then wiped off the steamy mirror and began shaving. It wouldn't do to have a General with a face that looked like Ho Chi Minh's casualty report, he reasoned.

He stuck out his tongue and grunted when it wasn't covered in the furry substance his taste buds insisted was there. Instead of just settling for brushing his teeth, he scrubbed his tongue with the toothbrush too, in the hopes that the dead gopher taste would dissipate. It didn't. Crap.

That necessary chore accomplished, he hung up the towel and padded into the bedroom where his navy-blue BDU's hung in the closet.

As he sat on his bed and laced up his boots, he thought about his schedule for the day. 'Sometimes I wonder if letting them promote me to General was such a great idea. I never get to go through the Gate anymore.'

Jack finished with one boot and then grabbed the laces of the other. 'I'll just betcha that Walter O'Radar will be waiting for me as soon as I get to my office. Sometimes that guy creeps me out. Nobody should be that efficient.'

Jack bloused his pants and then stood and looked at his reflection in the mirror. He looked like a scarecrow in his baggy uniform. He flicked an invisible speck of lint from his shoulder and tugged at his shirt. The image staring back at him didn't change.

'You look like an imposter, Jack. Those stars on your collar still don't look like they belong there. The eagles looked way better than those pointy stars. Stars mean you're "The Man" and get you into trouble. There's nothing wrong with eagles, are there?'

He smoothed his uniform and then shrugged as he waved a dismissive hand at his reflection. "Aw, what do you know anyway?"

General O'Neill, 'The Man' in charge of the SGC and all the personnel assigned there turned and headed for the door. He nodded to the SF outside his door as he passed; mentally shrugging off the irritation he felt when he heard him fall in behind him.

'Hammond's orders, my ass, it's getting so they won't let me take a crap on my own. Sure, I know what they said, that I'm too valuable to risk and all that. It's not my fault that someone is always kidnapping my ass when I least expect it, is it?'

Jack rubbed the back of his neck and rolled his shoulders as he walked, nope, the tight knot in his muscles was back. It centered right about where he imagined the eyes of the SF following him were. He resisted the urge to look behind him and searched for something else for his sleep-deprived mind to latch onto.

'Gotta get some caffeine. The grade of sludge they call coffee in the commissary should do the trick. It's high test and probably could be used as jet engine fuel. They always keep a pot brewing for us morons who are too dumb to know better or too keyed up to sleep. Betcha I'll see Carter there too.' His brow wrinkled as his step faltered. 'If it's really her.'

Whistling tunelessly, Jack stuck his hands in his pockets. He stopped suddenly and smirked when the SF scrambled to avoid colliding with him. "You up for some java?"

Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter was surprised to see her CO, General O'Neill, saunter into the Commissary. Though, come to think of it, she shouldn't have been. Their meetings were becoming all too familiar as both of them fought with their inner demons.

She smiled a greeting as he strolled to her table, hands in his pockets, looking like he didn't have a care in the world. '_Yeah, right, and Newton_ _didn't get knocked on the head with an apple, either.'_

O'Neill draped his long elegant fingers on the back of a chair. "This seat taken, Carter?"

"No, sir. It's all yours." Sam sipped at her cup of coffee to smother her grin as Jack shot a look of distaste at the hovering SF. "I heard the coffee here is to die for."

"I wouldn't go that far, but it's loaded with caffeine and will do in a pinch, sir." Sam took another sip and winced. It really was strong and was probably from the bottom of the pot. No telling how long it had been brewing.

"Your coffee, sir." The SF smoothly set a steaming cup and saucer on the table in front of O'Neill, and then retired to a nearby table with his own cup.

O'Neill wiped his face and grimaced. "I could've gotten it myself, you know."

Sam looked at her Jack, her CO, she reminded herself . . . again. "They just want to help out, sir." She looked down at her half-empty cup. "Think of it as one of the perks of your job."

His eyes crinkled as his grin showed off his dimple. "No pun intended?"

Sam blushed and averted her eyes. "Are you kidding? This is me we're talking about." She peeked through her lashes. "No pun intended, sir."

The general picked up his coffee cup and eyed its contents suspiciously. Predictably, he stuck his forefinger into it, dipped out a bit of flotsam, and then flicked it away.

Sam giggled.

O'Neill raised one eyebrow. "What?"

"You're so predicable." Sam dipped her head and toyed with a napkin.

"And?"

She looked up, and noted his eyebrow was still raised. "You and your coffee. What exactly is wrong with it?"

O'Neill looked nonchalant. "Oh, you know . . . stuff."

Sam smirked. "Stuff, sir? Is that the technical term for it?"

"Nah, I leave that stuff to you. You're the genius when it comes to technical stuff, ya know." He took a sip of the brew and winced. "Strong."

Sam took a moment to study her CO, he looked like he still wasn't' eating and from the bags under his eyes, he wasn't sleeping either. Not really surprising considering that he was drinking coffee with her when he should have been asleep.

'Sleep, yeah, as if you can talk, Sam. You're not sleeping either, you know. Why else would you be here instead of occupying a perfectly nice bed in your quarters? You can't even use the excuse that you're working on some project in your lab, not since you started getting freaked out whenever you even go near the place. Holy Hannah, what's happening to you, girl? You've always been able to deal with everything by working in your lab, now you can't even go to there without breaking out in a sweat.'

Sam took an absent-minded sip of her cooling coffee, lost in her thoughts. '_If only you didn't start thinking about what happened when Jack's evil twin bug person trapped you there. But every time you go inside that place, that's all you see. Him, no IT and that fake smirk IT had.'_

Sam shuddered and coughed as the coffee went down the wrong tube. She set the cup down and covered her mouth as the coughs shook her thin frame.

A hand on her shoulder startled her. "Carter?" She looked up into brown eyes that looked concerned. "You all right?"

She coughed again and cleared her throat. "Um, yeah." Cough. "Think so."

The hand left her shoulder and when she looked up, O'Neill was back in his chair. "Well, you look like crap, Carter."

"Sir?"

"You been getting any sleep?" She felt his eyes bore into hers and her gaze dropped to the contents of her now empty cup.

Sam cleared her throat. "Some," she whispered.

"Not enough." She looked up to see her Jack's gaze fixed on her. He seemed concerned.

He continued. "You know Kay starts today."

Sam picked up her wadded napkin and spread it out on the table top, concentrating on smoothing out the wrinkles with her fingers. "So?"

"I'd like you to see her, Sam." Her fingers missed a beat at his use of her first name. "I'm worried about you." He paused. "Is that a crime?"

Her finger resumed her task of smoothing out her napkin, one that had taken on extreme importance. She shrugged but kept her eyes on the napkin. "I don't know. Depends."

Jack's voice was soft. "Depends on what?"

She paused to take time to pick her words. "Depends on who's asking." Sam looked up. "My CO . . . or my Jack."

Her eyes watched as his gaze dropped from her face to his cup. "Can't it be both?"

Sam smiled uncertainly. "I suppose."

Jack's brown eyes were back on her face. "So, will ya go see her? For me?"

Sam felt all resolve and fear melt with the force of her Jack's eyes on her. "Yes, Jack. I'll go. For you."

Jack smiled. "Good."

Sam resumed her study of her napkin, and bit her lip. "Yeah, that's good."

"Yep, hunky dory, peachy keen." Jack huffed out a breath. "So."

Sam looked up, a question in her eyes. "Sir?"

"Working on any new doohickeys?"

Sam returned her attention to the already smooth napkin. "Um, sure." She straightened out her shoulders and look up. "In fact, I was just heading there." Her fingers traced the outlines of the paper in front of her.

"Mind if I tag along?" Jack emptied his cup and stood.

"What?" Sam's forehead furrowed in concentration. She'd found another wrinkle in the napkin.

A tap on the table startled her as those same long elegant fingers rested on the table by her napkin. "Earth to Carter."

Sam blinked guilty eyes and then raised her gaze to her CO. "Oh, sorry, sir. I was just thinking."

"Nah, you?" Her Jack reappeared for a moment and then was replaced by her CO. "C'mon. I'll walk you to your lab." His fingers grabbed the napkin, wadded it up and crammed it into his coffee cup.

Sam chewed on the inside of her lip as she watched her napkin being taken from her. All that hard work . . . and it hadn't been smoothed out yet. She paused a moment, her fingers itching to take back what was hers, then instead stuffed her hands under the table.

"Okay, sir. Just give me a minute." She scooted her chair back, which gave her a chance to collect her thoughts.

'_Holy, Hannah. Does he know I can't go in there? That I haven't been there for days? _

She searched his face as she stood up. He seemed relaxed, as much as he had been since . . . before.

'_No, I don't think he does. He's just trying to be supportive, that's all.' _

'_And why am I getting all worked up over a fricking napkin? I mean, it's not as if it were a naquada reactor, or anything important. Still though, it was MY napkin and he took it away from me.'_

Military training automatically taking over, Sam fell into step with her superior officer as her mind grappled with finding a way out of visiting her lab.

Her inner thoughts were interrupted by her General's mutter of disgust. "Oh, for crying out loud. Does he have to follow me everywhere?"

"Sir?"

"Sure, I know Hammond said it's for my own good, but I get tired of having someone tagging along with me everywhere I go." Jack stuck his hands in his pockets, but not before she noted they were clenched. "I wouldn't put up with it if anyone else but Hammond had asked me to do it."

Not knowing what else to say, Sam wrapped her arms around her torso and said nothing. She knew the bodyguard had come about as a direct order, not a request, and that it had the full backing of President Hayes. She also knew that Jack was fully aware of those facts, and why the bodyguard was there. Sam was grateful that one hadn't been assigned to her, because given that she'd been kidnapped too, it wouldn't have been out of the realm of possibility to happen.

"He's just doing his job, sir." She replied defensively.

General O'Neill shrugged. "Yeah, I know he is, but his job is driving me nuts."

Sam smothered a laugh with one hand and turned it into a cough. "Sorry, sir."

Jack looked at her in disbelief. "Better do something about that cough, Colonel."

She cleared her throat and licked dry lips. "Yes, sir."

Well, here we are, Carter's lab and chocolate emporium." Jack waved her toward the closed door and then stopped as she hesitated. "What's the matter?"

Thinking quickly, she stuck her hands in her pants pockets and drew them out. "How silly of me, I forgot my swipe card, can't get in." Pasting a false smile on her face she looked away.

"No problem, I'll use mine. One of the perks of being "The Man" is that mine can get me into anyplace on the base." He removed his card and ran it through the keycard slot. The door buzzed and then clicked open. Jack turned the doorknob and motioned her inside the room.

Caught with no other choice, she straightened her shoulders. "Thanks, sir." She wrapped her arms around her torso and shivered. After a moment of hesitation, she stepped inside and turned on the lights. The neon lights flickers and hummed as they shed light over what was once her safe haven, the one place she could go to escape when reality got too tough to face.

Jack's voice behind her had her spinning in place. "See, everything's where it should be."

She gagged as bile rose from her stomach; the acidy taste of stale coffee making her feel nauseous. With one hand covering her mouth, she barged past her CO.

"Excuse me," she mumbled, her voice muffled by her hand. She ran down the hall, swallowing frantically to keep from puking on the floor. Reaching the bathroom, she ran toward the nearest toilet and knelt down in the stall as her guts emptied into the porcelain bowl. She grabbed a wad of toilet paper and wiped her mouth, then began retching again but nothing came up. Bent double, her face supported by her arm across the toilet, she continued to retch, feeling totally helpless and miserable.

After what seemed like forever, her stomach calmed and she sat back, leaning against the bathroom stall wall because she felt too shaky to get to her feet. Sam unrolled more toilet paper and used it to wipe her forehead that felt cold and clammy.

A knock came at the stall door. "Colonel Carter?" Sam wiped her mouth again and grimaced with distaste. Her mouth tasted of bile and vomit.

"What?"

"General O'Neill asked me to check on you. He said you were sick."

Sam struggled to her feet, using the walls of the stall as a support to hold up her still shaky legs. "I'll be all right," she lied. "Probably something I ate."

She opened the door to see a concerned nurse who looked like she didn't believe her lie. "He wants me to escort you to the Infirmary, just in case, ma'am."

Sam smiled a wan smile that even she knew wasn't convincing. "Okay, just give me a minute to wash up, okay?"

"Of course, ma'am." She unobtrusively took Carter's arm and supported her toward the sinks.

"Thanks, I think I can manage the rest." Sam turned on the water and let it run while she leaned against the sink, letting it support her. She jerked in surprise when she felt a wet towel brush across her neck and then her forehead.

Giving the nurse a wan smile of thanks, Carter allowed it. "Thanks, I needed that. Guess I might as well head to the Infirmary and get it over with, because quite frankly, I feel like crap."

When they opened the door and stepped into the hallway, the first person they saw was O'Neill, leaning against the opposite wall, his fingers fiddling with the string of a yo-yo.

His fingers froze when their eyes met. "You okay?"

She averted her eyes. "Guess we'll soon find out, huh.

A male voice echoed down the hallway. "Oh, there you are, General O'Neill. I've been looking for you." Jack straightened up from the wall and pocketed his yo-yo. Carter watched as his face smoothed into an impassive mask, but not before she saw a flicker of annoyance in his chocolate eyes.

"Good morning, Walter. And what forms of torture do you have planned for me today?"

Walter was armed with a schedule book and a cup of coffee. The cup of coffee was given to O'Neill, but he adroitly swept the schedule out of his CO's reach.

"You have a briefing of all Team leaders at 0730 hours. Plus you have the monthly requisition forms for supplies for the commissary to review and authorize.

O'Neill rolled his eyes. "What, no toilet paper requisitions?"

"You'll get those tomorrow, sir," Walter corrected with a reproving glance.

General O'Neill surrendered by raising his hands. "I'm all yours." He shoved off, cradling his coffee cup. "Duty calls, Carter." Then he turned to the nurse. "See that she makes it to the Infirmary, I'll call and check on her later."

The nurse gave him a reassuring smile, but he was already headed down the hallway, Walter and the SF beside him. "I'll do that, sir."

Jack waved a hand in acknowledgement as he continued down the hall sipping his coffee.

The nurse turned to Sam. "After you, ma'am."

Kay Dow let her mind wander, as she drove on autopilot to her new job. She'd traversed this particular mountain road often enough now to allow herself that luxury. She shook her head in wonder.

'My new job. No, not just mine. Josh's too. And that's the greatest wonder of all, that my disabled husband is able to work again, to feel useful. Face it, Kay; you might as well admit it. This one classifies as a bona fide miracle. There was no way on God's green earth that you could've known that a few meetings with a prisoner all those years ago would end up turning into a life-changing moment. No, make that life saving. If it weren't for General O'Neill's intervention, Josh would probably be close to death. You knew he didn't want to live like he was before, unable to work or be the breadwinner for our kids and us. He's a proud man, you know that as well as anyone.'

Kay slowed to take a hairpin curve and leaned into it, chuckling as she imagined Josh rolling his eyes at her actions. Once before, he'd laughed and asked her if her behavior helped her drive better. Kay had smirked and told him yes. All the while realizing that it had absolutely no relevance to how well her mini SUV took the curves.

"I'm a woman and reserve my right to be absolutely positively irrational and to change my mind for no discernable reason at all." Kay had smiled in triumph as Josh shook his head and muttered. "What's that, dear?"

"Ah, nothing." He'd tried to look innocent, and failed.

The curve negotiated successfully, Kay's mind drifted again. She was making this trip alone, Josh having different work hours than she, he'd left about two hours before her, happily babbling about the upcoming projects he'd be performing. Thank God he was able to do them. He'd been battling depression and it'd been getting the best of him in the months prior to his recovery. Without his ability to be useful, she's watched him slip away, his physical and emotional health in a steep nosedive that she feared could have only one outcome.

"And to think that we have a little naked alien to thank for his return to the work force." Kay tapped her fingers on the steering wheel and hummed to herself. "Someone must be looking out for us, that's all there is to it. Even Josh admits it."

The music on the radio shifted to a well-loved song, "You Raise Me Up". A pinched thumb and forefinger traced the beat of the music, directing an invisible orchestra as Kay's voice soared along with her spirit, almost as if she floated weightless among the wispy clouds that hung in the blue sky.

"When I am down and, oh my soul, so weary;

When troubles come and my heart burdened be;

Then, I am still and wait here in the silence,

Until you come and sit a while with me.

You raise me up, so I can stand on mountains;

You raise me up, to walk on stormy seas;

I am strong, when I am on your shoulders;

You raise me up: To more than I can be."

Her heart beat faster, brought there by the soaring crescendo of the glorious music. She sighed as the song ended.

'Okay, God, you win. It's been You all the time, hasn't it? If You can help me make those left turns into heavy traffic, then You'd have no trouble at all finding a way for us to survive and keep doing Your work, right?'

Kay's brow wrinkled as she tried to gain perspective on what she was doing, or about to do, since today was her first official day to do what she'd always felt called to do. Counsel and guide others to self-awareness.

'Is this where I'm supposed to be right now? Are you placing me where I'm needed to do your work? If it is, all I ask is the strength and wisdom to do your will. Is that a deal, God?'

No lightning bolts struck her moving vehicle and the clouds remained a fluffy white, so she took that as an affirmative sign from on high. Kay shook her head and laughed, the green Jell-O, as her friend, Jolene called it, was getting deep.

'Come one, girl. Get a grip. It's your first day on the job, don't go screwing it up.'

Kay slowed as her goal came in sight, Cheyenne Mountain Complex. She showed her new ID to the guard at the gate and was waved on. She shivered with a mixture of delight and apprehension as she drove inside and parked in a corner, pulling in so she wouldn't have to back out when she left. It was yet another one of her quirks, one that her husband approved of.

She noted with a smile that her husband's metallic blue truck was parked nearby and knew without asking that he'd parked there so he could get the extra exercise. Now that he could walk without pain, he seemed to take every opportunity to take advantage of his newfound physical health. It was like he'd been reborn as he quite literally leapt at his new opportunity for life. She grinned as her body reminded her of their night of romance.

Kay wriggled sensuously as she caught sight of her reflection in the rear-view mirror. Her mirror image smirked back at her. She couldn't help but note the flush of healthy vitality on her face, one that didn't come out of a bottle.

'Yep, nothing wrong with that man of mine, all his parts are most definitely in working order.'

She blushed at the erotic turn her mind was taking her and sternly told herself to get her mind out of the gutter . . . for now. There would be plenty of time for that . . . later.

Taking a deep cleansing breath, she stepped outside her SUV, locked the door and threaded her way through the other vehicles to the imposing arched entrance. Nervously, she used one finger to push her thick glasses back up her nose. Then she checked her clothes, comfortable slacks, top, and jacket in varying shades of her favorite color, burgundy.

Straightening her shoulders, she heaved a sigh and mumbled to herself. "Come on, Kay. You can do this."

The new ID badge clipped to her jacket and her signature on the log allowed her access to the Complex. The other times she'd been met by an escort, this was her first solo run into what would in all probability be her home away from home. Her new work place, full of wonders that would boggle her mind, a doorway to other worlds and peoples that she'd been granted the opportunity to explore. She repressed a giggle of excitement.

Kay hoped her eyes weren't too wide and tried to affect a ho-hum attitude as she walked to the first set of elevators that would lead to her new office. She signed the log and then entered the elevator, bouncing back and forth on her heels as it descended.

In the second set of elevators she blew out as her ears registered the change in air pressure and complained. Wiggling her jaw back and forth relieved the painful pressure as she reached her floor.

Her first stop would be the morning briefing with her new boss, Dr. McKenzie, a man that she had grown to respect in their first few meetings. She'd been pleasantly surprised when the psychiatrist had confided to her of his relief that she'd been recruited to aid in the counseling of SGC personnel.

Her respect came from his unusually humble and candid admission that he found himself to be out of his league when it came to counseling, his primary training being in psychiatric pharmacology. It had been her experience that not many psychiatrists would admit to such a thing, especially to a so-called underling with only a Masters degree under their belt.

Jack placed the last requisition form on top of the growing stack already residing in his out-box with exaggerated care. After all, the SGC would in all probability cease operations without its monthly supply of toilet paper.

'Walter lied like a rug; he knew I'd be doing those toilet paper requisitions today, along with the ones for women's feminine hygiene supplies, paper clips, and C-4. Who knew they used so much, for crying out loud?'

'The other things, not the explosive. In my opinion there's no such thing as too much C-4. Too bad I can't use it to blow away my current enemy, all this danged paperwork . . . in triplicate no less! Crap.'

He chuckled and shook his head at his less than charitable thoughts toward the oh-so-important task he was doing as well as his minder, Walter O'Radar. What was that saying about how even the ones who do the paperwork also serve?

'Well, I still think it's crap . . . important crap that needs to be done, but still crap.'

General O'Neill leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over the back of his head and ended by massaging the back of his neck. He had gotten a lot accomplished this morning though. That in itself felt good, not anywhere near as good as going through the Gate and being able to leave all this paper trail behind, but good nonetheless.

He'd checked on Carter a couple of hours ago and had been informed that she'd been kept in the Infirmary due to dehydration and just plain being worn out. That's what the Doc had said anyway. That hadn't come as a shock to Jack, he'd suspected that she hadn't been coping well with their previous misadventures and had whole-heartedly approved her continued stay there. However, his half-formed plan to pay her a visit had been nixed when the Doc told him that Carter was sleeping and wasn't to be disturbed.

He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to massage away the beginnings of a headache.

'At least I don't have to worry about whether or not this Carter's real or the replicator one. I really doubt that the Techno-bitch would bother with puking up her toenails. That wouldn't be her style. Plus, they've got at least one IV stuck in Sam, which automatically rules out any Replicators. There is no way a Bug person could pass that test. Nope, it's the real Sam Carter down there all right.'

'Now I'm so glad that I already talked her into seeing Kay. Speaking of which, that's who I'm supposed to see next, according to Walter, that is.'

Jack pushed back from his desk and stood, with fingers interlaced, and stretched his long arms high above his head until he heard his joints pop. He grunted as he lowered his arms and stepped from behind his massive desk, one that separated him from the rest of the personnel assigned to the SGC, literally as well as figuratively. Drumming his fingers on the wood surface as he passed around it, he considered how he'd gotten there, and whether he'd do it all over again, given the chance.

Today, he wasn't so sure. All he knew was that he felt worn out, tired beyond imagining and totally inadequate to the job. Sure, he liked being in the Air Force, being an officer and as for the SGC, it was the best assignment he'd ever had. But being the top dog, the big cheese, 'The Man' was a whole other story. On days like this, he really missed being able to step through the Gate with his team and getting down and dirty on another world. What he would give to leave Earth and all it's problems behind.

Plus, he suspected that he might be joining Carter in the Infirmary soon if he wasn't careful. When the Doc had asked him very some pointed questions about his own state of health, he'd managed to come up with some vague answers that, while they weren't out and out lies, weren't exactly the whole truth either.

In fact, he'd been kind of proud of one of his statements. When the Doc had asked him how the protein shakes tasted, he'd told her that they'd gone down just fine. And they had . . . he'd just neglected to tell her that they'd gone down the crapper.

'It's all in the details.'

Still, to be on the safe side, he'd had Walter fetch him some Froot Loops and he'd even managed to down most of a bowl of them before they got too soggy. Not exactly the most nutritious meal he could've had, but the box did say that it had fruit flavors. Right? So what if the flavors came out of a bottle with a chemical name that would make Daniel stutter? They would've tasted better though if his gut didn't have such a knot in it and he didn't feel like puking all the time.

He realized he was pacing back and forth in his office and stopped himself with an effort. Checking his watch, he noted he had about five minutes before his appointment with Kay. To tell you the truth, he was kind of looking forward to this interview, he had the feeling that the female counselor would take her duties of facilitating the emotional well-being of the personnel at the SGC quite seriously and he hoped to sic her on Carter ASAP.

Although she'd tried to hide it from him, Jack had been aware that Carter was falling behind in her work due to her increasing difficulty in dealing with the aftermath of Fifth's attentions to her. The sooner that Sam could talk about her issues with someone she trusted, the better for her and ultimately, the SGC and the Air Force.

Walter's knock on the door brought him back to reality. "Sir? Kay Dow is here to see you."

The Sergeant looked worried, but then he always looked that way. Seems he'd taken on the duty of keeping the SGC's newest CO on-track and on schedule. Jack couldn't help but wonder if Walter had regrets about what he did, if his new boss was measuring up to the gargantuan task of defending Earth against the rest of the galaxy.

"Thank you, Walter. I've been expecting her. We'll meet in the Briefing Room." He paused for a beat. "Did you bring the donuts?"

Jack stuck a smile on his face and followed Walter out of his office. This was one meeting that should be a piece of cake. Then providing he could elude Walter and his ubiquitous schedule book, he could meet Teal'c in the gym for a workout.

Walter frowned and checked the schedule book. "Donuts, sir?" The white-haired Sergeant planted himself in the General's path.

"Of course, donuts. Everyone knows that shrinks can't operate without donuts." Jack smirked and raised one eyebrow. "Didn't you get the memo?"

Walter looked doubtful. "No, sir. I didn't. Just when did this memo go out?" He shifted to one side, a reproving glare on his face. "You know protocol says all memos go through me, sir."

Jack tried to sidle past his aide, but failed when Walter matched his moves. "Dang, I'd forgotten that." He shrugged and tried to look innocent. "Walter can't keep the shrink waiting. I've heard they get cranky when they have to wait."

"Uh, yes, sir. And I'll have some donuts sent up." Carrying his schedule book like a shield, Walter sighed and then left the room, moving like a man on a mission of utmost importance.

Jack looked up when he heard a good-natured chuckle. It had come from Kay. He studied her as he took his seat at the head of the table. She looked nervous, which was understandable as she seated herself and laid the files in her arms on the table in front of her.

Her salt and pepper hair was worn short in what used to be called a pageboy. It framed a pale careworn face half-covered with thick glasses. The dark blue eyes looked intelligent and he had cause to know that they took in and analyzed everything they saw. Her eyes were lit with a hint of wicked humor.

"You had him going there, sir. " Kay folded her hands in front of her and looked as if she were giving him the once over. Come to think of it, she probably was. "You like doing that, don't you?"

Taken aback, Jack resorted to old ways of dealing with the unknown and plastered a blank look on his face. "What?"

Kay rolled her eyes and leveled a glare at him. "Don't try the dumb act on me, sir. I know you too well."

Jack shrugged and said nothing, waiting to see where she would take their conversation. Her next words would tell him much about her ability to adjust to the unusual work environment at his base.

The petite counselor pushed her glasses back up her nose and sighed with a hint of exasperation. "I know you care about your people, sir. And I know how extremely intelligent and capable you are." She paused and tilted her head. "Do you realize how much Walter idolizes you?"

Jack relaxed, her answer had satisfied him. She would fit in. That didn't mean he had to answer her question though, one of the perks of being 'The Man'.

"So . . . you've seen through me, either that or you've read my folder."

The counselor smiled. "Actually, both. I spent the morning being briefed by Dr. McKenzie and going through several personnel files. Dr. McKenzie and I both agree that there are several people who are in need of my services."

Jack smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I like it when you get down to business right off the bat, Kay. I know of at least one person who could use a session with a good shrink." He spread his hands. "Shall we compare names?"

"That's the way I operate, sir. I prefer to get down to the brass tacks, especially when it comes to insuring the emotional well-being of the people at this facility. I take my job very seriously, sir and want to do my best for my patients."

"Glad to hear that, Kay." He gestured to the files. "You said you have names?"

Kay picked up the first file and opened it. "Yes, sir. Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter. She appears to be suffering all the classic symptoms of PTSD." She paused and looked over the tops of her glasses at Jack. "That's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Jack nodded so she continued. "I understand she is in the Infirmary due to dehydration. I believe these problems are a direct result of her emotional distress."

He folded his hands in front of him. "I couldn't agree with you more, Kay. In fact, I was talking to Carter this morning and she agreed to see you."

Kay smiled her approval. "I see you're keeping track of your people. I can't say, as I'm surprised about that. I'll put her on my schedule for this afternoon, pending clearance from the MD, of course."

"Of course." He paused. "Who else?"

Kay nodded and closed the file and picked up another one. "Yes, sir. In fact, the next one has me really concerned. You see, sir . . ." She raised her eyes from the file and looked across the table at Jack. "He's in a position of responsibility, and has a past history of psychological trauma. In fact, he's exhibiting many of the same symptoms as Colonel Carter."

Jack shrugged. "So? What's the problem?"

"So far, he's resisted any and all attempts to get him the help he needs. However, his physical and emotional states continue to deteriorate. I'm really worried about him, sir."

Jack sighed. "Have him sent to me, I'll order him to see you and cooperate. Will that help?"

Kay looked uncomfortable. "I don't think so, sir."

Jack frowned. "Why not? If I tell him to see you, he will. End of story." He cocked his head to one side and rubbed his chin. "Who is this shrub who doesn't know what's good for him?"

Kay paused and then blurted it out. "It's you, sir."

No one spoke for a moment. Jack was stunned; his mind ran in circles, like a mouse inside an exercise wheel, frenetic energy that got him nowhere. Who'd ratted on him? He wasn't that bad off, was he?

"You're kidding, right?"

Kay thinned her lips and looked stubborn. "No, I'm not."

Jack scrubbed his face with one hand. "Don't you think I'd know if I needed help, Kay?"

The petite counselor brushed her hair behind one ear and frowned. "With your history? No, sir, I don't."

"Well, I think I'm doing just fine." He glared at her but she didn't look away. "Who else do you want to see?"

Kay's eyebrows knitted together as she continued to lock eyes with his. "Sir, why did you ask me to work here?"

Taken aback by her change of topic, Jack paused for a moment. "I knew we needed someone like you that my people could talk to when things got rough. Someone they could trust to help them sort things out."

"So let me do my job, sir."

Jack looked away. "I am, Kay. I just don't agree with you this time. So, just forget about it," he growled.

"I would if I could, sir, but I can't." She tilted her head to one side and chuckled. "I think an excellent cliché for this would be 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander'."

Jack looked stubborn and led with his chin. "What's your point, Kay? I haven't all day to waste on this crap. Move on to the next case." He sighed. "Besides, you know how I hate clichés."

"If the shoe fits, sir . . . " Kay exhaled noisily and looked down at the files. "I was really looking forward to doing this job, General. But if you don't back me up, there's no sense of me even being here." She turned her gaze on Jack. "They say that a good leader leads by example."

Jack hefted an eyebrow. "And?"

She tilted her head back, as if in challenge. "So lead them, sir. Your people can see that you're having a rough time. They're worried about you, and if they think that you don't trust me with your feelings, then why should they?"

"But I do trust you."

"Then come see me this afternoon. I could make it an order from General Hammond, but would prefer to see you on a volunteer basis."

Jack swallowed heavily as bile rose in his throat, scalding his esophagus. Lowering his head, he rubbed his forehead with his palms. "It's not that easy," he whispered.

The counselor tapped the table top with the tip of her pen for emphasis, the metallic clicking sounding unusually loud and . . . ominous, at least to Jack.

"Of course it isn't." Kay sighed and continued on in a soft gentle voice. "But in order for you to do your job, to function and take care of your people, you need to be at your best."

As she continued Jack looked up, his eyes bleak. "You're not at your best, sir. I'd be lying if I told you that you were, and I told you all those years ago that I'd always be honest with you. Didn't I?"

"Yes." Jack's face had paled and his voice croaked.

"Have I lied to you yet?"

Jack shook his head to clear it as the Briefing Room faded away. Kay's voice echoed in the chamber where he'd been when Fifth had him . . . and Carter. Nothing else seemed to exist but that chamber crawling with bugs and Kay's voice. Her words were almost drowned out by the whirring and clicking of replicators.

Kay quietly slid her chair back and slipped around closer to Jack. "Jack? Where are you now?"

Brown eyes were fixed and staring straight ahead. "With Fifth," Jack answered in a flat, dull voice.

"I'd like you to come back here now. Can you do that?"

She watched closely as Jack blinked his eyes and started, clear signs that awareness of the here and now had returned to him.

Kay stood by Jack's side, careful not to touch him or come within striking distance. "Welcome back, sir. Thought I'd lost you there for a second."

Jack's brow wrinkled. "What happened?"

"You had a flashback. Something I suspect has been happening all too often lately." She pursed her lips. "Am I right?"

Clearly embarrassed, Jack bent his head away from Kay. "Guess so."

Kay nodded. "I'll keep my schedule open for you today, sir. I'll check with Walter for the best time to see you."

Jack still seemed dazed. "Sure, that'd be great."

Kay settled back into her chair. "I think I'll wait here with you, make a note in my files. It'll give you a chance to catch your breath."

Jack scrubbed his face with his hands and shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, okay." He sounded weary, in mind, body and spirit.

While keeping an eye on Jack, the counselor made a few notations in his file. After a few moments, Kay noticed he became more active and showed signs of restlessness, his eyes roving around the room and shuffling his feet under the table.

She took the lead. "I guess I'd better get back to my office. Still got lots of settling in to do."

Jack grimaced and offered a wan smile with a wave of his hand. "Sure, see ya later."

Kay gathered up her files and walked toward the door knowing that O'Neill watched her every move. Stopping, she looked back, and let concern flow across her face. "I certainly hope so, sir." Then she smirked; her eyes alight with suppressed mirth. "Besides, you still owe me donuts. Shrinks can't do their shrink thingamajig without those things, ya know. Wouldn't want to get me cranky, would you?"

Jack responded with a ghost of a grin, but at least it was there. "You aren't related to someone named Fraiser, are you?"

Kay cradled the files against her chest as she considered his question. "If it's who I think it is, then the answer is no." Her face grew pensive. "But from what I've read about her, she was one hell of a lady, one I wish I could've met."

Jack's lips thinned. "You remind me of her, that's all. She was a little bitty thing, about your size, but man, when she spoke, you'd better listen. Ruled the Infirmary like a power-mad Napoleon but had the most heart and compassion that I've ever seen in anyone." He sighed with regret. "And yes, she was one hell of a lady, one we all miss."

The mood had grown somber again, something the counselor didn't want. There would be plenty of that later in the day, and she felt the need to leave her client with a bit of laughter in his heart.

"You won't forget the donuts, will you?" Kay asked.

Jack rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, Kay. There is no way I want a cranky shrink, especially if she's planning to do her mumbo-jumbo thing on my head later today." He grinned. "You'll get your donuts if I have to deliver them myself."

She grinned triumphantly. "Excellent. I'm glad we understand each other."

Walter appeared in the door in front of her, his arms full of a tray with assorted sugar-glazed pastries.

Kay's eyes lit up as her mouth watered. Her rumbling stomach sounded loud in the room and her eyes widened in surprise at how her body had betrayed her. Still, she hadn't had time for breakfast this morning and she was hungry. Plus she happened to love donuts.

Jack pushed himself away from the table and straightened, as smirk on his face. "Walter." His voice broke the silence, once more sounding confident, the leader of the SGC. "You're just the man I wanted to see."

Walter maneuvered around Kay with his tray. "Sir?"

Jack covered the ground separating him from his goal. "I have a mission of utmost importance for you." He rubbed his hands together with seeming glee. "Our new shrink has confirmed that she does get cranky and that the only known cure for this is donuts. Since our meeting is over, I'm ordering you to complete Operation 'Cranky Shrink'. Your mission, and you'd better accept it, is to deliver said donuts to her office."

Walter looked stunned.

"Take no prisoners, Walter. I know you won't let me down." With that enigmatic statement Jack swept past both Kay and Walter and headed out of the Briefing Room at a fast walk.

Frowning, Walter exchanged a glance with Kay and hefted the laden tray in her direction. "Donut?"

Kay shrugged and gave shifted her hold on the files. "Kind of got my hands full right now, but I would love one."

"After you then, ma'am."

Kay smiled as she exited the room. Jack was nowhere to be found. "Is he always like this?"

The white-haired Sergeant looked guarded. "What do you mean?"

She shifted the files to one arm, perching them off one slender hip. "So, charismatic, so full of life and contradictions."

He nodded. "Yes, he is all of that."

They had reached the elevator and Kay used her keycard to open it, and then punched in the number for her floor.

Kay and Walter had the elevator to themselves; the smell of fresh donuts permeated the air in the confined space. She sniffed in appreciation as her stomach once again rumbled. Kay suppressed a giggle of embarrassment.

Walter responded with an understanding grin. "Up early this morning, ma'am?"

Kay nodded. "Call me Kay, please. Ma'am sounds like you're talking to my Mom."

"Okay, ma . . . um, Kay." He flushed.

Kay touched his arm. "It's okay, old habits die hard, don't they?"

Walter nodded and watched the floor indicator. "He's not like other men."

Kay's eyebrows shot upwards, her head directed toward the Sergeant. "Really? What do you mean by that?"

"General O'Neill just isn't, that's all." He narrowed his eyes in obvious thought. "It's hard to explain unless you've been there to watch him over the years."

"Help me to understand. Please?"

Walter looked uncomfortable. "I don't know if I'm the right person to ask, ma'am. Colonel Carter and Dr. Jackson, even Teal'c have been with him these past eight years, sometimes twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Especially when they've been off world, they spent all their time together. Or used to before he got those stars."

Kay prodded gently. "They don't spend as much time together now?"

The elevator chimed as the doors opened, and they slid past others waiting to enter. Kay slowed to allow Walter and his donuts to catch up with her as they headed for her office.

He shook his head. "No, they don't. Not since he got promoted off the team. Oh, they try, but he's so busy and Colonel Carter has her duties, so it's just not as easy for them to stick together. They were practically inseparable, doing things together. The rest of the teams tried to emulate them, because they were considered our good luck charm."

"Good luck charm?"

"Yeah. You see, people die on missions sometimes. In fact, SG-1 was the only team that had all it's original members, if you don't count the time that Dr. Jackson was ascended for a year. So the rest of the teams tried to do everything like General O'Neill did in the hopes that they'd get it right and everybody would make it back alive."

"It didn't work though, did it?"

Walter looked down, sorrow etched on his features as he shook his head. "No, it didn't. We've lost a lot of people. Way too many."

Kay cocked her head. "Do you have any ideas about what made SG-1 so lucky?"

Walter nodded decisively. "It's all about who General O'Neill is. He really cares about his people, not just the ones on his team, but all of us. He taught that to his team members."

They'd reached Kay's door and once again she swiped her keycard in the slot to open the door. As the door opened, she turned the lights on and they flickered, and then hummed as they shed bright fluorescent light over the contents of the room. The office was small, containing her desk and chair, along with a couple comfortable chairs grouped in a corner around a coffee table.

Kay sighed with indecision as she looked about for a spot for Walter to lay down his sugary burden.

Walter headed for the coffee table. "How about here?" He set the tray down and stood back to admire it.

Kay wasted no time and grabbed a sugar-glazed donut, sinking her teeth into it. "Mmmm," she groaned, her eyes closing in ecstasy. "I love these things. Do they make them here?" She mumbled around a mouthful of donut.

Walter nodded proudly. "Yes, they do. Every one of us face death all the time so the General figures nothing is too good for the people who work here."

Kay gestured to the tray. "You want one too? I feel selfish eating this while you're standing there with nothing." When he hesitated she renewed her assault on what she perceived as his weakening defenses. "No, I insist. Unless I miss my guess, it's been awhile since you've eaten and I have the feeling that your boss keeps you hopping. Besides there is no way I can eat all these by myself." She sat in a chair and waved him to the other one.

She sucked the sugar glaze off one finger and reached for a napkin. "You really admire him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, ma'am. He's given everything for us, has died for us. Anyone of us here would do the same for him and never think twice about it."

Kay nibbled at her donut. "That's funny, I get the feeling that he doesn't take advantage of that. Almost as if he isn't aware of how you feel. Or is it that he doesn't think he deserves that kind of respect?"

Walter took a bite of his donut while he seemed to consider her question. "He's not big on ceremony, never has been. Don't get me wrong; he's not perfect, far from it. But I think that he truly doesn't believe he's earned our respect. Although as far as I'm concerned, he's earned it and more. That's why I . . . we look out for him." Walter leveled a serious gaze her way. "We won't take kindly to anyone who messes with him."

Kay paused in her devouring the donut and returned his look. "I understand what you're trying to tell me, Walter." She paused. "Do you honestly think I would hurt him?" She leaned forward, the donut temporarily forgotten in her hand.

"Not on purpose, ma'am. We can see that he's been having a tough time since the Asgard rescued him from the Replicators. He doesn't always take well to seeing shrinks, that's all." He paused. "Nothing against you, ma'am. We just don't want him hurt any more than he already has."

"I don't either, Walter. And I promise you that I will do my best for him, and everyone else I see here. Is that good enough for you?"

He nodded and then stood. "Yes, ma'am. It is. I just wanted to check you out, that's all."

"Of course, that is your job, isn't it?" She smiled and licked her lips of the icing. "To look after General O'Neill?"

"Yes, it is."

"One that you take extremely seriously?"

Walter stiffened with pride. "Of course." He checked his watch. "Speaking of which, I'd better get him out of the gym. His next meeting is in ten minutes."

Kay chuckled. "When he tore out of that room, you knew where he was headed all the time didn't you?"

He nodded and a superior grin lit his face. "That's also my job, ma'am." He turned to go. "Thanks for the snack."

"Any time. Oh, by the way, the General needs to spend some time with me today, when would be a good time?"

"I already made time for him to see you today at 1530 hours."

"Oh?"

He smirked and nodded. "Of course, I was counting on you to convince him to see you today. It's your job, isn't it?"

"Touché." Kay grinned and bit her lip as she realized the Sergeant had outflanked her. "Yes it is. One that I take very seriously." She gave him a mock glare. "Walter?" He paused. "Did you check me out?"

"It's my job, ma'am. One I take very seriously." He grinned and gave her a thumbs up before leaving the room.

Kay shook her head in bemusement as she considered the ramifications of their conversation. "Guess I passed," she murmured. She bent down and snagged another donut, a rectangular one with nuts embedded in the glaze this time.

Wrapping a napkin around it, she headed over to her desk and opened a file. Kay knew she had a lot of past history to catch up on before she saw her first client this afternoon.

Seated in her high-backed chair, she raised her eyes heavenward and smiled. "Thanks," she whispered.


	2. Chapter 2

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 2

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander Part 1", hurt/comfort, drama.

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **None really, but it will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Jack placed the last requisition form on top of the growing stack already residing in his out-box with exaggerated care. After all, the SGC would in all probability cease operations without its monthly supply of toilet paper.

'Walter lied like a rug; he knew I'd be doing those toilet paper requisitions today, along with the ones for women's feminine hygiene supplies, paper clips, and C-4. Who knew they used so much, for crying out loud?'

'The other things, not the explosive. In my opinion there's no such thing as too much C-4. Too bad I can't use it to blow away my current enemy, all this danged paperwork . . . in triplicate no less! Crap.'

He chuckled and shook his head at his less than charitable thoughts toward the oh-so-important task he was doing as well as his minder, Walter O'Radar. What was that saying about how even the ones who do the paperwork also serve?

'Well, I still think it's crap . . . important crap that needs to be done, but still crap.'

General O'Neill leaned back in his chair and ran his hands over the back of his head and ended by massaging the back of his neck. He had gotten a lot accomplished this morning though. That in itself felt good, not anywhere near as good as going through the Gate and being able to leave all this paper trail behind, but good nonetheless.

He'd checked on Carter a couple of hours ago and had been informed that she'd been kept in the Infirmary due to dehydration and just plain being worn out. That's what the Doc had said anyway. That hadn't come as a shock to Jack, he'd suspected that she hadn't been coping well with their previous misadventures and had whole-heartedly approved her continued stay there. However, his half-formed plan to pay her a visit had been nixed when the Doc told him that Carter was sleeping and wasn't to be disturbed.

He rubbed his forehead in an attempt to massage away the beginnings of a headache.

'At least I don't have to worry about whether or not this Carter's real or the replicator one. I really doubt that the Techno-bitch would bother with puking up her toenails. That wouldn't be her style. Plus, they've got at least one IV stuck in Sam, which automatically rules out any Replicators. There is no way a Bug person could pass that test. Nope, it's the real Sam Carter down there all right.'

'Now I'm so glad that I already talked her into seeing Kay. Speaking of which, that's who I'm supposed to see next, according to Walter, that is.'

Jack pushed back from his desk and stood, with fingers interlaced, and stretched his long arms high above his head until he heard his joints pop. He grunted as he lowered his arms and stepped from behind his massive desk, one that separated him from the rest of the personnel assigned to the SGC, literally as well as figuratively. Drumming his fingers on the wood surface as he passed around it, he considered how he'd gotten there, and whether he'd do it all over again, given the chance.

Today, he wasn't so sure. All he knew was that he felt worn out, tired beyond imagining and totally inadequate to the job. Sure, he liked being in the Air Force, being an officer and as for the SGC, it was the best assignment he'd ever had. But being the top dog, the big cheese, 'The Man' was a whole other story. On days like this, he really missed being able to step through the Gate with his team and getting down and dirty on another world. What he would give to leave Earth and all it's problems behind.

Plus, he suspected that he might be joining Carter in the Infirmary soon if he wasn't careful. When the Doc had asked him very some pointed questions about his own state of health, he'd managed to come up with some vague answers that, while they weren't out and out lies, weren't exactly the whole truth either.

In fact, he'd been kind of proud of one of his statements. When the Doc had asked him how the protein shakes tasted, he'd told her that they'd gone down just fine. And they had . . . he'd just neglected to tell her that they'd gone down the crapper.

'It's all in the details.'

Still, to be on the safe side, he'd had Walter fetch him some Froot Loops and he'd even managed to down most of a bowl of them before they got too soggy. Not exactly the most nutritious meal he could've had, but the box did say that it had fruit flavors. Right? So what if the flavors came out of a bottle with a chemical name that would make Daniel stutter? They would've tasted better though if his gut didn't have such a knot in it and he didn't feel like puking all the time.

He realized he was pacing back and forth in his office and stopped himself with an effort. Checking his watch, he noted he had about five minutes before his appointment with Kay. To tell you the truth, he was kind of looking forward to this interview, he had the feeling that the female counselor would take her duties of facilitating the emotional well-being of the personnel at the SGC quite seriously and he hoped to sic her on Carter ASAP.

Although she'd tried to hide it from him, Jack had been aware that Carter was falling behind in her work due to her increasing difficulty in dealing with the aftermath of Fifth's attentions to her. The sooner that Sam could talk about her issues with someone she trusted, the better for her and ultimately, the SGC and the Air Force.

Walter's knock on the door brought him back to reality. "Sir? Kay Dow is here to see you."

The Sergeant looked worried, but then he always looked that way. Seems he'd taken on the duty of keeping the SGC's newest CO on-track and on schedule. Jack couldn't help but wonder if Walter had regrets about what he did, if his new boss was measuring up to the gargantuan task of defending Earth against the rest of the galaxy.

"Thank you, Walter. I've been expecting her. We'll meet in the Briefing Room." He paused for a beat. "Did you bring the donuts?"

Jack stuck a smile on his face and followed Walter out of his office. This was one meeting that should be a piece of cake. Then providing he could elude Walter and his ubiquitous schedule book, he could meet Teal'c in the gym for a workout.

Walter frowned and checked the schedule book. "Donuts, sir?" The white-haired Sergeant planted himself in the General's path.

"Of course, donuts. Everyone knows that shrinks can't operate without donuts." Jack smirked and raised one eyebrow. "Didn't you get the memo?"

Walter looked doubtful. "No, sir. I didn't. Just when did this memo go out?" He shifted to one side, a reproving glare on his face. "You know protocol says all memos go through me, sir."

Jack tried to sidle past his aide, but failed when Walter matched his moves. "Dang, I'd forgotten that." He shrugged and tried to look innocent. "Walter, can't keep the shrink waiting. I've heard they get cranky when they have to wait."

"Uh, yes, sir. And I'll have some donuts sent up." Carrying his schedule book like a shield, Walter sighed and then left the room, moving like a man on a mission of utmost importance.

Jack looked up when he heard a good-natured chuckle. It had come from Kay. He studied her as he took his seat at the head of the table. She looked nervous, which was understandable as she seated herself and laid the files in her arms on the table in front of her.

Her salt and pepper hair was worn short in what used to be called a pageboy. It framed a pale careworn face half-covered with thick glasses. The dark blue eyes looked intelligent and he had cause to know that they took in and analyzed everything they saw. Her eyes were lit with a hint of wicked humor.

"You had him going there, sir. " Kay folded her hands in front of her and looked as if she were giving him the once over. Come to think of it, she probably was. "You like doing that, don't you?"

Taken aback, Jack resorted to old ways of dealing with the unknown and plastered a blank look on his face. "What?"

Kay rolled her eyes and leveled a glare at him. "Don't try the dumb act on me, sir. I know you too well."

Jack shrugged and said nothing, waiting to see where she would take their conversation. Her next words would tell him much about her ability to adjust to the unusual work environment at his base.

The petite counselor pushed her glasses back up her nose and sighed with a hint of exasperation. "I know you care about your people, sir. And I know how extremely intelligent and capable you are." She paused and tilted her head. "Do you realize how much Walter idolizes you?"

Jack relaxed, her answer had satisfied him. She would fit in. That didn't mean he had to answer her question though, one of the perks of being 'The Man'.

"So . . . you've seen through me, either that or you've read my folder."

The counselor smiled. "Actually, both. I spent the morning being briefed by Dr. McKenzie and going through several personnel files. Dr. McKenzie and I both agree that there are several people who are in need of my services."

Jack smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I like it when you get down to business right off the bat, Kay. I know of at least one person who could use a session with a good shrink." He spread his hands. "Shall we compare names?"

"That's the way I operate, sir. I prefer to get down to the brass tacks, especially when it comes to insuring the emotional well-being of the people at this facility. I take my job very seriously, sir and want to do my best for my patients."

"Glad to hear that, Kay." He gestured to the files. "You said you have names?"

Kay picked up the first file and opened it. "Yes, sir. Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter. She appears to be suffering all the classic symptoms of PTSD." She paused and looked over the tops of her glasses at Jack. "That's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder."

Jack nodded so she continued. "I understand she is in the Infirmary due to dehydration. I believe these problems are a direct result of her emotional distress."

He folded his hands in front of him. "I couldn't agree with you more, Kay. In fact, I was talking to Carter this morning and she agreed to see you."

Kay smiled her approval. "I see you're keeping track of your people. I can't say as I'm surprised about that. I'll put her on my schedule for this afternoon, pending clearance from the MD, of course."

"Of course." He paused. "Who else?"

Kay nodded and closed the file and picked up another one. "Yes, sir. In fact, the next one has me really concerned. You see, sir . . ." She raised her eyes from the file and looked across the table at Jack. "He's in a position of responsibility, and has a past history of psychological trauma. In fact, he's exhibiting many of the same symptoms as Colonel Carter."

Jack shrugged. "So? What's the problem?"

"So far, he's resisted any and all attempts to get him the help he needs. However, his physical and emotional states continue to deteriorate. I'm really worried about him, sir."

Jack sighed. "Have him sent to me, I'll order him to see you and cooperate. Will that help?"

Kay looked uncomfortable. "I don't think so, sir."

Jack frowned. "Why not? If I tell him to see you, he will. End of story." He cocked his head to one side and rubbed his chin. "Who is this shrub who doesn't know what's good for him?"

Kay paused and then blurted it out. "It's you, sir."

No one spoke for a moment. Jack was stunned; his mind ran in circles, like a mouse inside an exercise wheel, frenetic energy that got him nowhere. Who'd ratted on him? He wasn't that bad off, was he?

"You're kidding, right?"

Kay thinned her lips and looked stubborn. "No, I'm not."

Jack scrubbed his face with one hand. "Don't you think I'd know if I needed help, Kay?"

The petite counselor brushed her hair behind one ear and frowned. "With your history? No, sir, I don't."

"Well, I think I'm doing just fine." He glared at her but she didn't look away. "Who else do you want to see?"

Kay's eyebrows knitted together as she continued to lock eyes with his. "Sir, why did you ask me to work here?"

Taken aback by her change of topic, Jack paused for a moment. "I knew we needed someone like you that my people could talk to when things got rough. Someone they could trust to help them sort things out."

"So let me do my job, sir."

Jack looked away. "I am, Kay. I just don't agree with you this time. So, just forget about it," he growled.

"I would if I could, sir, but I can't." She tilted her head to one side and chuckled. "I think an excellent cliché for this would be 'what's good for the goose is good for the gander'."

Jack looked stubborn and led with his chin. "What's your point, Kay? I haven't all day to waste on this crap. Move on to the next case." He sighed. "Besides, you know how I hate clichés."

"If the shoe fits, sir . . . " Kay exhaled noisily and looked down at the files. "I was really looking forward to doing this job, General. But if you don't back me up, there's no sense of me even being here." She turned her gaze on Jack. "They say that a good leader leads by example."

Jack hefted an eyebrow. "And?"

She tilted her head back, as if in challenge. "So lead them, sir. Your people can see that you're having a rough time. They're worried about you, and if they think that you don't trust me with your feelings, then why should they?"

"But I do trust you."

"Then come see me this afternoon. I could make it an order from General Hammond, but would prefer to see you on a volunteer basis."

Jack swallowed heavily as bile rose in his throat, scalding his esophagus. Lowering his head, he rubbed his forehead with his palms. "It's not that easy," he whispered.

The counselor tapped the table top with the tip of her pen for emphasis, the metallic clicking sounding unusually loud and . . . ominous, at least to Jack.

"Of course it isn't." Kay sighed and continued on in a soft gentle voice. "But in order for you to do your job, to function and take care of your people, you need to be at your best."

As she continued Jack looked up, his eyes bleak. "You're not at your best, sir. I'd be lying if I told you that you were, and I told you all those years ago that I'd always be honest with you. Didn't I?"

"Yes." Jack's face had paled and his voice croaked.

"Have I lied to you yet?"

Jack shook his head to clear it as the Briefing Room faded away. Kay's voice echoed in the chamber where he'd been when Fifth had him . . . and Carter. Nothing else seemed to exist but that chamber crawling with bugs and Kay's voice. Her words were almost drowned out by the whirring and clicking of replicators.

Kay quietly slid her chair back and slipped around closer to Jack. "Jack? Where are you now?"

Brown eyes were fixed and staring straight ahead. "With Fifth," Jack answered in a flat, dull voice.

"I'd like you to come back here now. Can you do that?"

She watched closely as Jack blinked his eyes and started, clear signs that awareness of the here and now had returned to him.

Kay stood by Jack's side, careful not to touch him or come within striking distance. "Welcome back, sir. Thought I'd lost you there for a second."

Jack's brow wrinkled. "What happened?"

"You had a flashback. Something I suspect has been happening all too often lately." She pursed her lips. "Am I right?"

Clearly embarrassed, Jack bent his head away from Kay. "Guess so."

Kay nodded. "I'll keep my schedule open for you today, sir. I'll check with Walter for the best time to see you."

Jack still seemed dazed. "Sure, that'd be great."

Kay settled back into her chair. "I think I'll wait here with you, make a note in my files. It'll give you a chance to catch your breath."

Jack scrubbed his face with his hands and shook his head as if to clear it. "Yeah, okay." He sounded weary, in mind, body and spirit.

While keeping an eye on Jack, the counselor made a few notations in his file. After a few moments, Kay noticed he became more active and showed signs of restlessness, his eyes roving around the room and shuffling his feet under the table.

She took the lead. "I guess I'd better get back to my office. Still got lots of settling in to do."

Jack grimaced and offered a wan smile with a wave of his hand. "Sure, see ya later."

Kay gathered up her files and walked toward the door knowing that O'Neill watched her every move. Stopping, she looked back, and let concern flow across her face. "I certainly hope so, sir." Then she smirked; her eyes alight with suppressed mirth. "Besides, you still owe me donuts. Shrinks can't do their shrink thingamajig without those things, ya know. Wouldn't want to get me cranky, would you?"

Jack responded with a ghost of a grin, but at least it was there. "You aren't related to someone named Fraiser, are you?"

Kay cradled the files against her chest as she considered his question. "If it's who I think it is, then the answer is no." Her face grew pensive. "But from what I've read about her, she was one hell of a lady, one I wish I could've met."

Jack's lips thinned. "You remind me of her, that's all. She was a little bitty thing, about your size, but man, when she spoke, you'd better listen. Ruled the Infirmary like a power-mad Napoleon but had the most heart and compassion that I've ever seen in anyone." He sighed with regret. "And yes, she was one hell of a lady, one we all miss."

The mood had grown somber again, something the counselor didn't want. There would be plenty of that later in the day, and she felt the need to leave her client with a bit of laughter in his heart.

"You won't forget the donuts, will you?" Kay asked.

Jack rolled his eyes. "For crying out loud, Kay. There is no way I want a cranky shrink, especially if she's planning to do her mumbo-jumbo thing on my head later today." He grinned. "You'll get your donuts if I have to deliver them myself."

She grinned triumphantly. "Excellent. I'm glad we understand each other."

Walter appeared in the door in front of her, his arms full of a tray with assorted sugar-glazed pastries.

Kay's eyes lit up as her mouth watered. Her rumbling stomach sounded loud in the room and her eyes widened in surprise at how her body had betrayed her. Still, she hadn't had time for breakfast this morning and she was hungry. Plus she happened to love donuts.

Jack pushed himself away from the table and straightened, as smirk on his face. "Walter." His voice broke the silence, once more sounding confident, the leader of the SGC. "You're just the man I wanted to see."

Walter maneuvered around Kay with his tray. "Sir?"

Jack covered the ground separating him from his goal. "I have a mission of utmost importance for you." He rubbed his hands together with seeming glee. "Our new shrink has confirmed that she does get cranky and that the only known cure for this is donuts. Since our meeting is over, I'm ordering you to complete Operation 'Cranky Shrink'. Your mission, and you'd better accept it, is to deliver said donuts to her office."

Walter looked stunned.

"Take no prisoners, Walter. I know you won't let me down." With that enigmatic statement Jack swept past both Kay and Walter and headed out of the Briefing Room at a fast walk.

Frowning, Walter exchanged a glance with Kay and hefted the laden tray in her direction. "Donut?"

Kay shrugged and gave shifted her hold on the files. "Kind of got my hands full right now, but I would love one."

"After you then, ma'am."

Kay smiled as she exited the room. Jack was nowhere to be found. "Is he always like this?"

The white-haired Sergeant looked guarded. "What do you mean?"

She shifted the files to one arm, perching them off one slender hip. "So, charismatic, so full of life and contradictions."

He nodded. "Yes, he is all of that."

They had reached the elevator and Kay used her keycard to open it, and then punched in the number for her floor.

Kay and Walter had the elevator to themselves; the smell of fresh donuts permeated the air in the confined space. She sniffed in appreciation as her stomach once again rumbled. Kay suppressed a giggle of embarrassment.

Walter responded with an understanding grin. "Up early this morning, ma'am?"

Kay nodded. "Call me Kay, please. Ma'am sounds like you're talking to my Mom."

"Okay, ma . . . um, Kay." He flushed.

Kay touched his arm. "It's okay, old habits die hard, don't they?"

Walter nodded and watched the floor indicator. "He's not like other men."

Kay's eyebrows shot upwards, her head directed toward the Sergeant. "Really? What do you mean by that?"

"General O'Neill just isn't, that's all." He narrowed his eyes in obvious thought. "It's hard to explain unless you've been there to watch him over the years."

"Help me to understand. Please?"

Walter looked uncomfortable. "I don't know if I'm the right person to ask, ma'am. Colonel Carter and Dr. Jackson, even Teal'c have been with him these past eight years, sometimes twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week. Especially when they've been off world, they spent all their time together. Or used to before he got those stars."

Kay prodded gently. "They don't spend as much time together now?"

The elevator chimed as the doors opened, and they slid past others waiting to enter. Kay slowed to allow Walter and his donuts to catch up with her as they headed for her office.

He shook his head. "No, they don't. Not since he got promoted off the team. Oh, they try, but he's so busy and Colonel Carter has her duties, so it's just not as easy for them to stick together. They were practically inseparable, doing things together. The rest of the teams tried to emulate them, because they were considered our good luck charm."

"Good luck charm?"

"Yeah. You see, people die on missions sometimes. In fact, SG-1 was the only team that had all it's original members, if you don't count the time that Dr. Jackson was ascended for a year. So the rest of the teams tried to do everything like General O'Neill did in the hopes that they'd get it right and everybody would make it back alive."

"It didn't work though, did it?"

Walter looked down, sorrow etched on his features as he shook his head. "No, it didn't. We've lost a lot of people. Way too many."

Kay cocked her head. "Do you have any ideas about what made SG-1 so lucky?"

Walter nodded decisively. "It's all about who General O'Neill is. He really cares about his people, not just the ones on his team, but all of us. He taught that to his team members."

They'd reached Kay's door and once again she swiped her keycard in the slot to open the door. As the door opened, she turned the lights on and they flickered, and then hummed as they shed bright fluorescent light over the contents of the room. The office was small, containing her desk and chair, along with a couple comfortable chairs grouped in a corner around a coffee table.

Kay sighed with indecision as she looked about for a spot for Walter to lay down his sugary burden.

Walter headed for the coffee table. "How about here?" He set the tray down and stood back to admire it.

Kay wasted no time and grabbed a sugar-glazed donut, sinking her teeth into it. "Mmmm," she groaned, her eyes closing in ecstasy. "I love these things. Do they make them here?" She mumbled around a mouthful of donut.

Walter nodded proudly. "Yes, they do. Every one of us face death all the time so the General figures nothing is too good for the people who work here."

Kay gestured to the tray. "You want one too? I feel selfish eating this while you're standing there with nothing." When he hesitated she renewed her assault on what she perceived as his weakening defenses. "No, I insist. Unless I miss my guess, it's been awhile since you've eaten and I have the feeling that your boss keeps you hopping. Besides there is no way I can eat all these by myself." She sat in a chair and waved him to the other one.

She sucked the sugar glaze off one finger and reached for a napkin. "You really admire him, don't you?"

"Of course I do, ma'am. He's given everything for us, has died for us. Anyone of us here would do the same for him and never think twice about it."

Kay nibbled at her donut. "That's funny, I get the feeling that he doesn't take advantage of that. Almost as if he isn't aware of how you feel. Or is it that he doesn't think he deserves that kind of respect?"

Walter took a bite of his donut while he seemed to consider her question. "He's not big on ceremony, never has been. Don't get me wrong; he's not perfect, far from it. But I think that he truly doesn't believe he's earned our respect. Although as far as I'm concerned, he's earned it and more. That's why I . . . we look out for him." Walter leveled a serious gaze her way. "We won't take kindly to anyone who messes with him."

Kay paused in her devouring the donut and returned his look. "I understand what you're trying to tell me, Walter." She paused. "Do you honestly think I would hurt him?" She leaned forward, the donut temporarily forgotten in her hand.

"Not on purpose, ma'am. We can see that he's been having a tough time since the Asgard rescued him from the Replicators. He doesn't always take well to seeing shrinks, that's all." He paused. "Nothing against you, ma'am. We just don't want him hurt any more than he already has."

"I don't either, Walter. And I promise you that I will do my best for him, and everyone else I see here. Is that good enough for you?"

He nodded and then stood. "Yes, ma'am. It is. I just wanted to check you out, that's all."

"Of course, that is your job, isn't it?" She smiled and licked her lips of the icing. "To look after General O'Neill?"

"Yes, it is."

"One that you take extremely seriously?"

Walter stiffened with pride. "Of course." He checked his watch. "Speaking of which, I'd better get him out of the gym. His next meeting is in ten minutes."

Kay chuckled. "When he tore out of that room, you knew where he was headed all the time didn't you?"

He nodded and a superior grin lit his face. "That's also my job, ma'am." He turned to go. "Thanks for the snack."

"Any time. Oh, by the way, the General needs to spend some time with me today, when would be a good time?"

"I already made time for him to see you today at 1530 hours."

"Oh?"

He smirked and nodded. "Of course, I was counting on you to convince him to see you today. It's your job, isn't it?"

"Touché." Kay grinned and bit her lip as she realized the Sergeant had outflanked her. "Yes it is. One that I take very seriously." She gave him a mock glare. "Walter?" He paused. "Did you check me out?"

"It's my job, ma'am. One I take very seriously." He grinned and gave her a thumbs up before leaving the room.

Kay shook her head in bemusement as she considered the ramifications of their conversation. "Guess I passed," she murmured. She bent down and snagged another donut, a rectangular one with nuts embedded in the glaze this time.

Wrapping a napkin around it, she headed over to her desk and opened a file. Kay knew she had a lot of past history to catch up on before she saw her first client this afternoon.

Seated in her high-backed chair, she raised her eyes heavenward and smiled. "Thanks," she whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 3

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander Part 2", hurt/comfort, drama.

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **None really, but it will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter stirred fitfully in her Infirmary bed as her eyelids flickered. An IV hanging to one side ended in the top of her hand, put there by the same nurse who'd escorted her, and toward the end of their brief journey, almost carried her to see the newest Chief of Medical Operations at the SGC.

If Sam's traitorous body'd had the energy to protest her incarceration there, she would've. However, by the time they'd arrived she'd felt even weaker than before and willingly submitted to their own form of torture called restorative medicine.

Sure, she'd rolled her eyes and made a token protest at the verdict, severe dehydration and exhaustion, but she knew the Doctor's diagnosis was correct. She'd already made it herself while she was busily puking up everything but her toenails in the ladies head.

'So why can't you just relax and enjoy the time off? You've earned it, haven't you? You know you have, Sam. So what's wrong with you?'

She moaned in her sleep as her head moved restlessly from side to side.

'I'll tell you what's wrong with you, as if you don't already know. You're a workaholic who's already so far behind in her precious projects that you'll never catch up in a million years, that's what's wrong.'

The simple unvarnished truth was that she was behind in her work schedule with several important projects languishing on the shelves in her lab, a place that she couldn't seem to enter without feeling like she was being watched, or was in danger. Her safe haven for stress relief had become her own personal hell.

Sam muttered in her sleep, her head tossing from side to side as this train of thought led inevitably to the reason behind her fear . . . and her severely depleted physical condition.

The slow steady beeping of the heart monitor at her side increased gradually in tempo as her muddled anxious thoughts took a more sinister turn.

"No," she whimpered as her feet strained and pedaled against the sheet covering her body. Her arm pulled its IV tether tight as she swiped at an invisible foe. Beside her bedside, the monitor began beeping shrilly.

The visions inside her head unfolded like a macabre movie in which she played an unwilling leading lady.

'Clad only in his tunic, Sam turned to Jack and clutched his bare arm. "No, you can't send me back, not without you. We'll both die if we're separated. Remember?"

'_Jack shook his head and cradled her against his exposed chest, so closely she could hear his heart beating. Her face nestled against him as she inhaled that special essence that she'd come to associate as belonging solely to him.' _

'_She relished the feel of the bare skin of his arms and chest against her body and for a moment regretted accepting his tunic. If she hadn't taken it, there would be no barrier between them now. Remembering the origin of the tunic made her shudder in revulsion as her skin tried to crawl away from any contact with the material made by the replicators.'_

'_Jack shifted Sam away from his chest and looked into her face. "No, I made a deal with Fifth. If he takes that doohickey thingy out of our heads and sends you back, I'll stay with Bug Boy."' _

'_Sam shook her head and opened her mouth to protest, but was silenced by his finger laid across her lips. She kissed it and savored the taste.'_

'_Jack gazed solemnly into her eyes. "Shh, I'm the one he really wants anyway. So, I'm ORDERING you to go, Carter."'_

'_Fifth looked smug as he watched them both and began laughing, the obscene sound of it seemed to echo and bounce around the room that was lined with replicator blocks. She shivered, as the walls seemed to waver for a moment and then stilled.'_

'_Sam shrank back into Jack's embrace in an attempt to avoid their parting for as long as possible and directed her iciest glare at their mechanical captor. Why wouldn't that THING stop laughing? She couldn't stand that laugh for one second longer; it was hideous!' _

'_Plus, she knew beyond the shadow of a doubt that Fifth intended to torture and kill her Jack. She couldn't leave him there, not now, not after all they'd been though. They were a part of each other now, and to be separated would be unimaginable to her. It would leave a person-sized hole within her, one that only her Jack could fill. Didn't he know that?' _

'_She tensed in preparation to throwing herself at the mechanical monstrosity, but Jack's arms tightened around her and prevented any movement. Throwing a rebellious stare at her CO, she paused. When he shook his head sorrowfully, she sighed and slumped against him.'_

'_She bit back a sob of frustration. "But . . ."'_

'"_No, Sam." She looked into his eyes now coal black with emotion. "Please?"'_

'_With an effort, he pushed her away and strode decisively to stand behind Fifth. "Just do it," he growled. "Now."'_

'_Sam screamed her protest. "Jack, nooo!"'_

Sam heard her scream reverberate around the private room as she realized she was sitting straight up in bed with her IV tangled around her arm. Her wide eyes searched the room wildly for Jack . . . and saw only a nurse she vaguely remembered who was running toward her.

Through narrowed eyes, she nailed the nurse and barked in her best command tone. "Airman. Where is Jack?"

The nurse's forward momentum carried her to Sam's bedside in seconds. "Ma'am?"

When the nurse reached for her arm, Sam jerked it out of her reach and scrambled back on her bed to avoid any possibility of being touched by the unknown quantity of the nurse.

'Where am I? Did I make it back to the SGC . . . or is this just another mind game being manufactured by Fifth?'

Sam's eyes swept the room, it looked real, but she'd been fooled before by Fifth. She squeezed her eyes shut and grabbed the sides of her head in desperation and confusion.

'_I can't tell what's real and what's not. Who can I trust to tell me? Jack? Yes, Jack! I can trust him, he'll tell me what to do.'_

When she heard the nurse come closer to her, she flinched away as her eyes shot open and flashed fire at the perceived threat. "Don't come any closer," she ordered. "I'll hurt you if you do." She grabbed a pen from the nightstand and held it out in front of her like a knife. "I mean it."

The nurse raised both hands and slowly backed away. "It's okay, Colonel Carter. You're safe at the SGC."

Sam lowered her hands, and then noticed the IV tangled around one arm. With horror, she dropped the pen, ripped the needle from her hand, and gazed transfixed at the trickle of blood that ran onto the white sheet covering her.

As she watched, the crimson droplets appeared to morph into a spider-like apparition and skitter away. Sam gazed with growing horror at her hand and wiped at it roughly with her other one.

"Noo!" She wailed. "I'm real." Her eyes sought out the only other person in the room, the nurse. "What did you do to me?" she demanded.

The nurse continued to back away until she reached the far wall by the still-open door. Fumbling hands grabbed for the phone and her fingers tapped out the number she needed.

"I need some help with Colonel Carter, STAT." She paused and listened. "She's not making sense and has torn out her IV."

Through the buzzing that filled her mind and muddled her thoughts, Sam struggled to listen to what the nurse was saying. She shook her head in an attempt to clear it, but it just made her head hurt worse than is already was.

The beeping noise from the heart monitor made the effort to clear and order her thoughts an impossibility. Reaching inside her shirt, she tore the pads from her chest and flung them at the machine. With a growl she leaned over to the monitor and silenced it's shrill wail with a flick of an off switch.

That commotion quashed, her attention was drawn once again to the blood oozing from her hand. The trickling blood felt strange against her hypersensitive skin, as it seemed to ripple to avoid the extra stimulus. She rubbed against her arms, as she felt as if she were ready to jump out of her skin. Overloaded to the point of breakdown, her mind felt like it was running in circles as she desperately tried to make sense of the signals her senses were receiving. Nothing made sense though.

'What's happening to me and where am I? Wasn't I at the base?'

Sam scrubbed at her face and pulled the hair impatiently out of her eyes. When a few strands came loose in her fingers she stared at them in disbelief. Through the depths of the darkness that her mind had descended she saw a spark of light, a lifeline that could save her sanity. She seized her lifeline and held on tight.

'Jack, I've got to talk to my Jack. He'll know what to do.'

Sam could hear the sound of running footsteps that seemed to be getting closer to her room. Her eyes blazing, she barked out a question. "Where's Jack?"

The nurse blinked, uncertain. "What?"

"You heard me, where is Jack? I need to see him." Her tone brooked no interference.

The nurse chewed her lip nervously. "Jack? Do you mean General O'Neill?"

"Of course I do. I need to talk to him." Sam rolled her eyes in exasperation. "Now!"

She grinned with satisfaction when the nurse jumped and backed out the door.

"Yes, ma'am."

Carter watched as the nurse beckoned urgently to whoever was coming down the hall.

Left momentarily to her own devices, she took stock of any potential weapons in the room, but ended up settling for the pen lying on the bed beside her. Her mind quieted and she allowed herself to relax against the raised bed. She felt so tired, more so than she could ever remember feeling before and her head was pounding.

The combination was enough to keep her thoughts muddled and she stifled a giggle as she imagined that her brain looked like their old vacuum cleaner had back before she'd learned the value of remembering where all the parts went before tearing something apart.

When her Mom had discovered her precocious blonde-haired five year old daughter sitting in the middle of the disemboweled appliance, with dust and gunk covering everything, she'd been so mad that she'd been speechless, and that didn't happen often.

As for her Dad, his reaction had been unexpected; evidently by both her and her Mom judging from the fight her parents had afterwards. Sure, Dad had tried to act mad, but his act of covering his mouth and coughing couldn't hide the gales of laughter spilling out his mouth and eyes.

Sam smothered her giggle one handed and sighed in annoyance when it turned into a yawn. There was no doubt in her mind that she couldn't let her guard down, not yet, not until she'd talked to Jack. He would know what to do. Then she could sleep safely in his arms.

Her fingers automatically disassembled the pen as a way to keep awake as she settled in to wait for her captors' next move . . . and for Jack.

When the phone on her desk rang, Kay was deeply engrossed in the file belonging to Lieutenant Colonel Samantha Carter. She jumped and swore as she slapped a sticky note down to mark where she'd left off and reached for the phone. It rang again before she could pick it up.

"Yeah, yeah, hold your horses," she muttered in irritation. "I'll get it."

Cradling the phone against one ear with her shoulder, she reached for a pen and notepad.

"Mental Health, Kay Dow speaking."

She grunted in frustration when she fumbled the cap of the pen and it dropped off the desktop and rolled under the desk.

Ignoring the cap, she poised the pen above the paper; Kay listened intently and then nodded. "Yes, Dr. McKenzie, I'm reading her file right now."

She paused and her eyes widened as she doodled the letters PTSD on the pad. Then she gulped and slashed an exclamation point across the page. "Yes, sir. I agree. I'll meet you in the Infirmary right away."

Straightening the papers in the file, she closed it decisively and then looked around her room in speculation.

"Aha!" Kay opened the middle desk drawer to reveal several as yet unused pens. She grabbed a couple and laid them on top of the file. Then she piled the notepad on top of the file and stuck the pens in a pants pocket.

She paused in thought and then grabbed the walkie-talkie radio out of the side drawer. Like loading a clip into a 45, she slid the battery onto the back of the radio until it clicked, then added the belt-clip to the back of the battery and attached it to her belt, straightening her jacket over its bulk.

The familiar actions brought back memories of her time spent at the prison, when the only defensive weapon she'd had was the radio. Hopefully this added measure would be unnecessary, but she'd learned from bitter experience how unpredictable a patient in crisis could be. Better to be safe than sorry.

She muttered to herself. "There, radio, pen, notepad, client files . . . anything else I might need?"

She smiled and raised a forefinger to the air. "Just one more thing."

Kay folded her hands under the desk and bowed her head in a silent prayer. "God, if I'm to do your work here, I'm gonna need Your help, because it sounds like a real humdinger of a case is coming up. I ask You to guide my heart, my hands, my lips, and my heart, Lord. Is it a deal?" She lifted her eyes, smiled and nodded. "Thanks."

As if heading into battle, she drew herself up to her full height of five feet four inches and headed for the door. It was time for her to start earning her keep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 4

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 3, hurt/comfort, drama.

CONTENT LEVEL: 18+

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **None really, but it will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Jack rubbed his hands together in mock enthusiasm as everyone sitting around the Briefing Room table stood to leave. Gone were the days when he would leave with them, chatting and carrying on with the easy camaraderie of being 'one of the guys'.

Nope, he could no longer do that because he was 'The Man', The Big Enchilada, and the Head Honcho. Yep, things had definitely changed and sometimes he really regretted taking over as head of the SGC. Still, the perks did help out, not entirely, but the parking space was a definite plus, as was taking over Hammond's chair. Its shiny leather was sweet, comfortable too.

With his luck, Hammond would figure out a way to requisition it from him. He smirked to himself as he pictured George dressed in special ops black running a midnight requisition raid with the goal being his leather high-backed chair. He'd have to check the security duty rosters for any possible weak spots. He really liked that chair and would hate to lose it.

Glancing around, he checked his watch. The Team Leader's Briefing was over with, and he had a whole hour with nothing penciled in his schedule book, unless that danged Walter had added something while he wasn't looking. He did have a habit of doing that; in fact that man was down right spooky, he always seemed to know where to find him, no matter where he went. If he didn't know better, he'd suspect mind reading. But there was no such thing . . . was there? Nah!

As the room emptied, Jack looked up, expecting to see Walter appear as if by magic, at the door. Nope, he wasn't there . . . yet. Maybe he could still make his getaway.

He'd missed having Carter there, wished for her uniquely scientific viewpoint. Sure, he still hated dealing with scientists, but she was way more than that. Carter was . . . special. Yeah, she was that all right, a great combination of a super brainy scientist who could mow down the bad guys without batting an eyelash.

_'She can watch my six any day, only . . . she can't, not now. You don't go through the Gate anymore. Do you, Jack? You're much too valuable now. Or so the President says. Crap.'_

_'Come to think of it, maybe she'd like a visit from her CO. Wouldn't be anything wrong with that, would there? After all, Hammond used to drop in on us all the time, back when Doc Fraiser used to practically chain you to the Infirmary bed with dire threats of sticking large needles in sensitive parts of your anatomy if you tried to make a jail break. God, I miss that pint-sized dictator.'_

Jack sighed and pushed himself away from the table. A quick check of his watch helped him make up his mind; he had just enough time to make a quick trip to and from the Infirmary before his next appointment.

His mind made up, Jack smiled and made his way around the table, heading for the door. His way was blocked by . . . Walter.

Jack jumped back, startled. "Dang it, Walter. How do you do that?"

Walter looked innocent. "Do what, sir?" Not unexpectedly, he held the General's appointment book securely in both arms.

Jack waved his hands in exasperation. "That!" He put his hand on his hips and huffed a breath. "All right, what is it now?"

"It's the Infirmary, sir. They need you down there right away."

Jack's eyebrows tried making friends with his hairline. "What?"

The graying Sergeant fidgeted in place. "I'm not sure, sir. Something about Colonel Carter. They've sent for Kay too."

With one hand on his hip, his other one scrubbed his hair. "All, right." He huffed a breath. "Let them know I'm on my way."

Walter stepped to one side as Jack brushed past him on his way up the stairs. "I'll let them know you're on your way, sir."

By now he was speaking to thin air as he watched his CO take the steps two at a time. He shook his head as he headed for the nearest phone. Unless he missed his guess, and he didn't think he did, the General was worried, really worried. And it wasn't just because the Colonel was a brilliant scientist.

Walter picked up the phone and punched in the number for the Infirmary. "He's on his way."

Kay ducked just in time as a full water pitcher went flying past her head to collide with a wet and spectacular splash against the far wall. With her hands raised in surrender, she backed toward the door.

Sam's venomous voice echoed throughout the room as she spat out her words slowly. "Where. Is. Jack?"

Keeping her voice low and even, Kay stopped just short of the door. "He's on his way, Colonel. I just want to help." She paused ready to dodge any further projectiles that might come her way. "That's all."

Diligently, she watched her latest very distraught patient with clinical aloofness, careful to keep herself from taking any insults personally. To say that Carter was upset would be a massive understatement.

Both the top and pants of Sam's blue hospital scrubs were spattered with droplets of drying blood and looked like she'd been a test subject in a mosquito repellant commercial, and that she'd the unlucky one stuck with brand X.

Kay firmly steered her mind away from such fanciful ideas and back to the very serious situation at hand. When she observed her patient's dilated blue eyes stop roving the room and fixate once more on the hand that still oozed a few droplets of blood, the counselor stilled, almost afraid to breathe. From experience she knew her patient's next moves would tell her more than mere words could.

Sam scrubbed at the droplets of blood as if they were a contagion and muttered. "No, no, I'm real, I'm real. I know I am."

A sudden wail of terror startled Kay and she froze in place as she watched Sam scramble out of her bed and run toward her on bare feet. "Keep them away from me!"

Just before she reached the counselor and the door, Sam collapsed to the floor on her butt and drew her knees up to her chin, her arms clasped around them. The utilitarian cloth of her hospital scrubs rasped against her skin as she rocked back and forth, making an odd counterpoint to her periodic whimpers.

Warily, Kay approached her patient. "What's going on, Sam?"

Drawn to the sound of her voice, Sam's head jerked up and replied. "Bugs." She shivered as her head jerked around to survey the room with hyper-vigilance. "They won't leave me alone." She continued to mutter and waved her hands erratically. "Stay away from the walls, they're alive. Stay away."

Kay squatted down close to Sam, making sure to keep enough distance between them for safety's sake. "Bugs?"

Sam looked at her through fear-widened red eyes. "Yeah, bugs. That's what Jack calls 'em, anyway. You know, Replicators."

Kay continued in a soft soothing voice. "And they're here?"

Sam's voice grew shrill. "You can't hear them? They're eating through the walls, and I feel like they're crawling all over me." Carter's eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Who are you, anyway? How do I know you aren't a Bug Person?"

Smiling her most reassuring smile, Kay raised one hand while keeping the other one on the floor to maintain her precarious balance. When the radio dug into her hip, she wiggled her hips to shift it back into place.

"I'm Kay Dow, the counselor. Remember? We met in General O'Neill's backyard."

Sam wasn't appeased. "How do I know you aren't just part of a mind game from Fifth?"

Kay shrugged. "Do I look like one, Sam?" She changed tactics when she saw Carter shudder and shake her head violently. "I've sent for General O'Neill and he should be here any minute now." She paused, in thought. "You needed to see him?"

"Jack's coming?" Sam's voice whispered as her eyes welled with tears. "He'll tell me that I'm real. Yes, Jack will know what's real." Her head cocked to one side as she thrust her chin out. "I love him, you know."

"Really?"

"Yes, and he loves me too." Carter's eyes roved from side to side checking out the area. Then she continued in a conspiratorial whisper. "We're not supposed to because of the regs. But we do. He'll be able to tell me if I'm real." She sobbed and shook her head. "I know I'm not a Bug Person, I'm real. I've got to be."

The sound of feet at the door behind her caught Kay's attention and she stood up carefully.

Sam heard it too and a smile lit her face. "Jack!"

Standing now, Kay watched as a look of puzzlement flitted across the General's face. He shoved both hands into his pants pockets and cleared his throat. "Carter?" He tilted his head to one side and lifted an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

Meanwhile, the counselor felt like she was at a tennis match, her head swiveling back and forth between the two other people in the room. General O'Neill clearly looked nervous and uncomfortable. As for Colonel Carter, her expression had changed from terror-stricken and hopeless to one of ecstatic joy in the space of a few seconds.

_'Hmm, curiouser and curiouser.' _

Carter stood awkwardly, swaying on her feet. "You came, Jack. I knew you would."

Jack stayed where he was and chewed the inside of his mouth. "Of course I came, Carter." His hands came out of hiding in his pockets and spread wide. "So . . . whatcha doin'?" He smiled innocently.

Sam looked nervous. "Jack? Is it really you?"

He flashed her a smile that lit his eyes and showed off his dimples. "In the flesh."

"Tell me I'm real. I am real, aren't I?"

Jack cleared his throat and he looked down at the floor before peeking back up at her. "Carter?"

Sam sighed in frustration. "Tell me I'm the real Carter, not a Bug Person."

Jack's hands shot back into his pockets again as he rocked back and forth on his feet. "Of course you're real." His eyes shot to Kay's in entreaty and he stage whispered out of the corner of his mouth. "She is, isn't she?"

Kay's eyes went wide despite herself. "Sir?"

Sam heard his question too. "Jack?" She whimpered and thrust out her blood stained hand for inspection. "The bugs aren't real. Are they?"

O'Neill took a step back. "Bugs, Carter?"

A wail of despair came out of Carter's mouth as she sank to the floor again and resumed her rocking motion. "Noo. I'm real, Jack. I'm real."

Kay took a tentative step toward the General whose eyes had gone wide with fear. "Sir?

His head turned toward hers. "What?"

Sam wailed in fear, the sound of her rapid breathing filling the room. "Don't leave me, Jack. We'll die if you do."

Kay's eyes darted quickly between both patients, and noted that Jack's eyes were dilated and he was breathing heavily. "I'd like you to come with me, sir."

She watched as he nodded slowly and backed out the door wiping his palms repeatedly against his pants.

Her counselor's mind was working overtime and she knew she needed to establish some sort of rudimentary control over the environment and stimuli that her two patients were exposed too. The last thing anyone needed was for two people caught in the throes of delusional flashbacks to start playing off each other in a macabre dance of Folie a deux.

She'd hoped that the presence of General O'Neill would have a calming effect on her female patient, however, now that his own delusions had surfaced, no doubt triggered by something that Carter had said, this was no longer a viable option. To allow further interaction between O'Neill and Carter put both of them at risk with the probable end result being an escalation of their symptoms and possible physical injury to those involved. In Kay's book that simply was not an option.

Her first priority was safety . . . for everyone. That meant getting the General to a room of his own. Unfortunately it might also mean the forcible sedation of Colonel Carter. First things first, though.

Now that both of them were in the hallway and out of sight of Carter, Kay spoke, ignoring the wail of fear emanating from the room they'd just vacated.

"General O'Neill?"

His eyes tracked to hers, though they seemed distant and far away. "Kay?"

"I'd like you to come with me now, sir."

She beckoned down the hall and edged away from him, watching to ensure that he followed her directions. When she saw Dr. Brightman standing with a questioning look on her pale face, she sighed in relief.

"Dr. Brightman, General O'Neill needs a private room . . . ASAP. Do you have any nearby?"

The CMO's eyes went wide but she caught on quick. "Yes. We have one right here." She indicated a nearby door that was half open and stepped toward it, her white lab coat rustling with her movement. Before going in, she summoned a nearby nurse with a gesture. "Doesn't the Colonel know you, Lieutenant Wells?"

The brown-haired nurse nodded. "I'm the one who brought her here from the bathroom, Doctor Brightman."

I thought so. Go keep an eye on the Colonel. Keep a low profile, but don't let her out of that room. She can't be left alone right now because we don't know what she'll do next." She fixed the nurse with a firm gaze. "Understand?"

"Yes, ma'am." The attractive nurse smiled and pivoted neatly before striding briskly toward Carter's room.

Now that Colonel Carter's immediate safety needs were being taken care of, Kay turned her attention back to the General who still looked dazed. "General? We have a room ready for you right here. I think you could use some privacy right about now." She smiled encouragement and observed closely as her male patient shuffled past her to enter the room.

However, once his eyes lit on Dr. Brightman, his demeanor changed dramatically. His shoulders came back and fire shot from his eyes, as he became every inch the CO of the SGC.

"Doctor! I need your medical expertise." He paused in thought and scrubbed his hands over his face as if to clear his head. "Is Carter human?"

Caught by surprise, Dr. Brightman stuttered. "Sir?"

Kay joined in. "I think what the General is trying to say, is this, Doctor. Did your tests show that Colonel Samantha Carter is human, and not a Replicator?" She turned to General O'Neill. "Did I get it right, sir?"

He waved one hand in the counselor's direction and nodded emphatically. "What she said."

Dr. Brightman reached back to close the door and then turned to face a very worried and edging toward being a seriously pissed off General O'Neill. She spread her hands in a placating manner. "All our tests show that Colonel Samantha Carter is most definitely human, sir. She is not a Replicator like Fifth." She smoothed back her dark hair and crossed her arms across her chest. "Does that answer your question?"

O'Neill sat heavily on the gurney with his head in his hands. "Yes, thank you, Doctor."

At that moment they heard a call from the intercom. "Respiratory Distress in room two, respiratory distress in room two."

Without further thought, Dr. Brightman yanked open the door. Kay and Jack exchanged glances.

Jack stood and started for the door "That's Carter's room."

Kay interposed herself between him and the door. Together they stood there for a moment at a temporary impasse until he grabbed both her arms and gently lifted her bodily and set her to one side.

The small but feisty counselor wasn't finished yet though and hurried after him. "Sir, I don't think you need to be in there right now." She caught up with him in the hallway and once more planted herself in his way.

Jack scowled. "Get out of my way, Kay."

Kay folded her arms stubbornly across her chest and fought down a giggle as she realized the sight she must present, the vision of a mouse waving the solitary finger of defiance at an eagle pouncing on his next meal.

"Why do you need to be in there, sir?"

The General waved his arms in agitation and spoke in a panicky but earnest tone. "Because I know what's going on!"

Taking a deep breath, Kay kept her voice low and calm as she ordered him to give her an explanation. "Then enlighten me."

"When Fifth had us, we were connected somehow, a doohickey that Bug Person from hell put inside our brains. We couldn't be farther than a few feet apart from each other or we'd die. Hell, we almost did! If Ernie hadn't figured it out, we would've." His voice quavered in remembrance as he wiped sweat from his forehead. "Fifth removed them from both of us as part of the deal I made with that THING." He puffed out a sigh and licked his lips nervously. "In exchange for her freedom, I agreed to stay with Fifth for as long as IT wanted me."

His voice had changed from a harsh tone to a whispered monotone. "Sam . . . Carter must think she's still back there with Fifth. She was asking for me because she knew I'd protect her." His tired brown eyes pleaded with Kay for forgiveness. "I let her down . . . and now she's gonna die."

Kay laid a hand on his shoulder. "Calm down, sir. She's being taken care of."

Acting as if he were carrying a weight much too heavy for his broad shoulders, Jack propped himself up against the wall with one arm. Kay noted with alarm that his respirations had increased.

Jack's voice was flat, almost a whisper as he as he squeezed out his words around his wheezes. "Don't understand it." Pant. "Ernie said it was gone." Pant. "Couldn't find a sign." Pant. "Neither one of us." He shook his head and gasped. "If she's still got hers then I . . ."

He continued to breathe heavily and slowly sank to the floor. "I'm dizzy." His fingers tugged frantically at the collar of his shirt as if to loosen its constricting hold around his neck.

Kay grabbed him under the shoulders in an attempt to ease his way to the floor. Then the counselor watched helplessly as his arms flopped bonelessly on the white floor tiles and his eyes rolled up inside his head.

Dismayed, she looked around, but it looked like everyone was tending to Carter.

She yelled in her loudest voice to raise the alarm. "Man down. I could use some help over here!"

Her hands felt for the pulse point in his neck and she sighed with relief when she found it, a bit too rapid for her liking, but at least it was there.

tbc


	5. Chapter 5

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 5

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 4, hurt/comfort, drama, UST.

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **Small ones for "Broca Divide", "Message In A Bottle", "Zero Hour" and other little bitty ones. It will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Walter hung up the phone and picked up General O'Neill's schedule book with a weary sigh of resignation. The moment his CO had disappeared out of sight with the Infirmary as his goal, the Air Force Sergeant had started making some mental computations. He'd had the suspicion then that the visit wouldn't go well, and judging from the fact that the General was now a patient there, it hadn't.

'Face it, Walter, when it comes to whatever happens to the members of SG-1, past and present, there were bound to be complications. It's as if Murphy's Law was written with that particular group of four humans in mind. Wait, make that three humans and one Jaffa. Although he's the size of a human mountain and just as strong, he does look like a human being.'

From their very first mission, the gray-haired technician had been watching SG-1 walk through the Stargate, and their luck or lack of it never ceased to amaze him. It was his personal opinion that the key ingredient that had kept them all alive, more or less, for eight years was their leader, the now General Jack O'Neill.

Walter hadn't been sure if he'd like O'Neill at first, as reckless, dimwitted, and full of himself as he seemed at first glance. However, over the years he'd learned that beneath the mask of the uncaring gung-ho military mind beat the heart and soul of a man who truly cared about his team, that his oft spoken slogan of "We don't leave our people behind" was much more than just words to him. Beyond the shadow of any doubt, he knew these words were indelibly seared into his CO's soul, put there by his own grim experiences.

Sometimes it paid to be the anonymous Gate Tech because it made you virtually invisible. This was a definite plus when things got hairy because it allowed you to observe first-hand how your superiors dealt with the pressures and perks that went with command.

As the anonymous Gate Guy, he'd seen the General at his best . . . and worst. He still remembered how he'd changed into a violent Neanderthal caveman type and tried to beat the living crap out of Dr. Jackson when they'd all ended up infected by that virus in their first year of operation.

From his perch in the Control Room, he'd also watched O'Neill suffer through hours of hanging impaled to the wall of the Gate Room, as everyone there raced against time to save him from death and their planet from annihilation. Colonel O'Neill had sobbed in agony then, but in Walter's opinion, that had only made the man more human, more approachable as the 2IC of the SGC.

When Walter witnessed the General facing down his former captor Ba'al, he'd wanted to cheer. Instead, he'd had to settle for renewing a vow to do everything within his power to ensure that this courageous man who'd long ago won a lowly Air Force Sergeant's respect would do well in his new position as Commander of the SGC. So it was a given that when Colonel Reynolds had requested a show of support from the personnel of the SGC, that he'd be there in the front row giving his leader the absolute best salute that he possibly could.

Sergeant Walter Harriman checked over the General's schedule and did some mental juggling. Most of the items could wait to be addressed in a couple of days. His immediate chore was organizing the meeting that was to take place in about half an hour. Dr. Brightman, Dr. Mackenzie, and Kay had requested that it take place in the Briefing Room. The topic up for discussion was the situation and treatment of General O'Neill and Colonel Carter.

He frowned in thought. As the acting 2IC, Colonel Reynolds needed to be there. Since it involved members of their team, it wouldn't hurt to have Teal'c and Dr. Jackson there too, not that he could've kept them away even if he tried. However, since they'd accompanied both General O'Neill and Colonel Carter when they'd been rescued from the Replicators, a case could be made that they might have some vital intel that could shed some light into what the heck was going on inside the two Officer's heads.

With the half hour he had prior to the meeting, he would have just enough time to make copies of the mission report from the rescue and contact all the parties that needed to be present. Walter turned to the phone and began making the arrangements.

Kay Dow slid her keycard in the slot and opened her door, trying to ignore the way her hands shook. Just a few more seconds and she could let it all out, she promised herself. She had about half an hour before the meeting in the Briefing Room, but there was something she had to do first, something that wouldn't be put off much longer.

Flicking the lights on in her office, she closed the door resolutely and leaned against it for a moment. Then she forced her trembling legs to carry her to the chair in the corner with its waiting box of tissues.

Sinking down into its comfort, she bent with her face propped by her hands as the tears began to flow down her cheeks unchecked. As her chest heaved, the sobs shook her entire body as she relived the previous hours. Reaching blindly, she grabbed a couple of tissues in one hand and blew her nose loudly. Tears cascaded down her face and dripped off her chin as she moaned, the sound of it echoing in the confines of her closed office.

Her body shuddered as sobs continued to wrack her slender frame and thoughts ricocheted helter-skelter through her reeling and spent mind.

'_So much pain there, too much for me to handle at once. I wanted to take it all away and I couldn't, it just kept getting worse. Both of them could've died. Did I make it worse?' _

She wrapped her arms around her chest and rocked back and forth in the chair as she considered the question. Meanwhile the tears dripped off her chin and onto her arms.

'_No, Kay, don't answer that question, not right now. You're in no shape to answer it objectively. You know you aren't.' _

Her lower lip trembled and she wiped her dripping nose with a tissue and then wadded it in her fist._ 'But what if I did make it worse?'_

She shook her head angrily and bit her lip. _'Hush, girl. Later you can gather all the information and let the experts decide. Give yourself a fricking break and recognize that you're probably making a mountain out of a molehill and basing all your thoughts on emotions run wild. After all, you should realize by now that you can't think clearly when you're like this, so just wait till later. Just feel, don't try to think, you know your mind isn't capable of doing that right now anyway. So just let it all out.'_

This was something she'd grown to expect and . . . accept about herself and her own personal reactions to stress. During a crisis, she would stay cool as a cucumber, no matter how long it took to bring it to some sort of resolution. Later, after it was all over, she'd sometimes fall apart and had learned through experience to find someplace private where she could shake and bawl her eyes out for a while. Once she'd done that, she'd be okay and ready to lock and load once again.

Even during that awful riot, she'd been able to stay relatively calm, considering the circumstances. She'd only lost it after they'd raped her, and then only for a short time. Just long enough to get her through the remaining hours until their rescue. Later, when she was safe in her hospital bed, she'd broken down and cried for what seemed like forever, leaving her feeling dry and lifeless as a withered twig in the desert.

The memory alone was still enough to make her body shudder, but due to some timely therapy, it no longer paralyzed her. She could gain strength from the realization that she'd survived, that the ones who'd attacked her had NOT won. They had paid for their crime, were safely locked away, and wouldn't be getting out anytime soon, not alive anyway.

Josh had been there with her then, holding her and comforting her. She knew that he couldn't be with her now though. This was something she had to get through on her own.

Initially she'd tried doing this with others around, her fellow professionals or even Josh. That hadn't worked very well though, because they were uncomfortable with her tears and felt a need to 'fix' her.

Her pleas that she would be fine and didn't need to be 'fixed' had fallen on deaf ears, so after a while, she'd learned that the best thing she could do was accept that this was something that she had to do, that trying to hold it in only made it worse. Her solution had been to do what was best for her own mental health, but the end result benefited everyone who depended on her.

She'd picked this very office with this particular situation in mind when being shown around. It was large enough to suit her needs as a therapist, had an adjoining bathroom, and was private enough so that it could become her own hidey-hole when she needed a place to let it all hang out.

Today was just such a time, she knew she badly needed the catharsis if she were to attend the upcoming meeting and be the professional she'd been hired to be. She took a deep cleansing breath as her body and mind calmed. The adrenaline that had kept her going all through the crisis with her two patients in the Infirmary was being purged from her bloodstream, leaving her feeling weak and tired.

Blowing her nose once again, she reached for a clean tissue to dry her face of all tears. As she did so, her eyes fell on the donuts from earlier in the day.

By now, her body would need something to replenish the calories she'd already burned while dealing with the emergency. In the past, Kay had been told that she was one of those people with a high metabolic rate and needed to eat small high calorie snacks throughout the day to keep her weight on.

Those donuts would be just what she needed. The pastries and a Coke would accompany her to the meeting. Chances were good that the others there would appreciate a little something to pick up their spirits too. The Lord knew it had been a trying day for everyone, and it was only noon.

Briefly she considered calling her husband, Josh, to let him know she was okay. By now he would've heard about the incident in the Infirmary and her part in it. It was best if she let him know herself that she was okay and that she might be late coming home, if she made it home at all.

Taking a bite of her glazed donut, she stood and walked over to her desk, noticing that she was no longer shaking and her hands were steady. She sighed with relief that the tremors were gone, that she was well on her way to reclaiming control of her body and emotions.

Kay took another breath, picked up the phone and dialed his extension. After a few rings, someone picked up at the other end. "I'd like to speak to Josh Dow, please."

Samantha Carter moaned in her sleep as her mind searched for the link that had to be there, the connection she'd relied upon to keep them both alive. Her arms thrashed and unbeknownst to her, pushed urgently against the side rails on the bed, put there as an incentive to keep her in the bed, or at least slow her down if she tried getting out again before she was released to do so. When she sensed him, she relaxed, certain in the knowledge that her Jack was close by.

With him there, she was safe once again and knew that he would protect her from whatever came their way. With the combination of her brains and his strategic know-how, they were unbeatable. Her body quieted and no longer fought the side rails as she fell into a deep, healing sleep. One arm pushed through an opening between the rails, stretched toward the man in the bed beside her in a seeming invitation for a more concrete connection.

Jack moaned low in his sleep as his dreams took a turned dark and evil. He sucked in his breath with a hiss as his eyes flickered, making the heart monitor's tone skip a beat and then settle to a more rapid pace. His fingers plucked weakly at the crisp sheet covering his chest.

'_Jack backed against the railing of his rooftop observatory as he sought to escape the clutches of the 'almost but not quite Sam'. He knew with a certainty that it wasn't her, had known it the moment she stepped onto the floor of his safe haven.' _

'_When she'd revealed who, no WHAT she was, he'd been horrified. That meant that Sam's evil twin had stuck its hand inside his head. What was worse was that IT seemed bent on raping him.' _

'_It wasn't enough that IT'd already sullied his safe haven by choosing this particular place to stage ITs seduction from hell. That tinker toy model gone wrong had not only raped his mind, but was planning to have its way with his body as well.' _

'_Well, that was so not going to happen if he had any say in the matter. He was so not into doing it with some sort of New Age Bride of Frankenstein wanna be. When the seemingly solid and reassuring railing edging the observatory at his back changed into something more hard and unyielding, he hissed, gulping in air as the emptiness above the railing morphed into a wall made up of a regular pattern of metallic blocks.'_

'_Seeing him trapped with nowhere to retreat, Sam's evil twin swaggered seductively toward him, moving with the grace and promise that he'd always dreamed of seeing. As his eyes flicked to the right and left, automatically searching for a nonexistent exit, IT laughed, low in its throat and the hard blue eyes seemed to grow colder.'_

'"_See something you like, Jack?" ITs lips curved into a smile as artificial lips were slowly and sensuously licked. "Would you like to know what you're missing? I could show you. I assure you that I'm anatomically correct in all aspects and fully functional." IT smiled and stepped forward, molding its body against his, lightly tracing one finger along his jaw line in a parody of intimacy.'_

'"_Nope." Jack growled a warning. "Stay away from me, you Techno-Bitch."'_

'_The automaton shook its head and stroked his cheek. "Afraid I can't do that."'_

'_Jack flinched away and stared horrified as replicator restraints grew and snugged over his arms and legs. He struggled to move them, but couldn't. He squeezed his eyes shut and shook his head as the Bug version of Sam caressed his arm and then moved to his chest, stopping just long enough to rip the buttons off his flannel shirt, leaving his chest bare and exposed.'_

'"_Oh, I like what I see, Jack." IT purred, running appreciative hands over his torso.' _

'_Jack's skin crawled, as he struggled to move away from her touch that sickened him. "It's the crunches."' _

'_He opened his eyes and stared into dead ones. His glare seemingly had no effect on the artificial life form before him, other than to make IT smile with delight. "Come on, Jack. I can show you what you've been missing." ITs head cocked to one side and the chin stuck out in a gesture so familiar that it seemed somehow obscene when a mere copy demonstrated it.'_

'_ITs hand slid behind his neck and cradled the back of his head as mechanical lips parted in a parody of a kiss. His head was drawn inexorably down and forward toward the intended goal. He struggled to jerk his head away from the tight grasp and groaned when his efforts failed. As Sam's evil twin grinned, he spat, his saliva landing on target.'_

_Before his horrified gaze, the globule of saliva was captured by miniature replicators that disappeared beneath the surface of the skin with their prize of watery spit._

'_IT released his head and let the freed hand return to caressing his bare chest. "You're right, you know."'_

'_Jack's eyes widened in dismay as those fingers on his skin had the intended effect. In desperation, he tried to shift away from her. "What?" His voice sounded raspy and guttural, even to him.'_

'"_This is the closest you'll ever get to knowing what it would be like to make love to her. You had your chance and you blew it. She finally realized what you've known all along."'_

'_The ice blue eyes bored into his. "She does deserve better than you." The hands paused and then resumed as they headed farther south. "That's why she chose Pete, and not you."'_

'_Jack responded by squeezing his eyes shut and desperately telling himself that this could not be happening. No way, it could be happening to him, not in a million years, as in nope, nada, no way Jose. The feel of fingers on his bare skin told him that his mantra of denial wasn't' working so he opened his eyes again and swallowed hard.'_

'_Yep, it was official, he'd gotten a double whammy visit from the "oh shit fairy". He clamped his mouth shut and swallowed hard to trap the scream of rage that was growing in his throat.'_

'_When the roaming fingers dipped below the belt of his pants, he sucked in another breath. "Don't do this." He gritted out between clenched teeth. "Please don't do this."'_

'Seemingly female hips ground against his groin, further arousing him despite his repugnance. In an effort to distract himself, he bit his lip. Hard. Feeling his arousal, the hips continued their obscene bump and grind and then upped the ante. Sam's face leered back at him as the fingers jerked his shirt out of his black jeans and unbuckled the belt.'

'_When Jack felt fingers fumbling with his zipper, he redoubled his efforts to escape. Frantic now, his hands struggled with his restraints. An unexpected loosening of his bonds had his arms flailing about wildly. Suddenly, his thrashing hands met with familiar living flesh that he knew instinctively could only belong to the original, one and only genuine item, his Sam.'_

'_He shuddered out a relieved sigh as the image of bug Person vaporized in front of his eyes and the restraints melted away into nothingness.'_

Beside him, Nurse Wells, made a notation in both charts as she observed the clasped hands of General O'Neill and Colonel Carter linked in the space between the two hospital beds. As she watched, the beeping heart monitors slowed to regular tones that mirrored each other, beat for beat.

She sat back in her chair and sucked on her lower lip in amazement. To her knowledge, both patients had not regained consciousness since their placement in the same room in the Infirmary. The new counselor had insisted on them being in the same room, maintaining that they'd be calmer if they were kept together.

The tall brunette pushed out of the chair and headed for the phone on the wall. With quick movements, she tapped out the number for Dr. Brightman. "Doctor?" She paused to listen. "I've got something here that you should see." Her head shook from side to side. "No, it's no emergency, but, it's . . . unusual." She smiled and nodded as she listened to the Doctor's response. "Good, I'll see you in a jiffy." Then she hung up the phone.

By the time Kay made it to the Briefing Room with the remaining donuts, most everyone else was already there. She laid the half-full box in the middle of the table and then sat down in her chair next to Dr. Mackenzie, scooting up to the table. Once situated, she slipped her right foot out of her loafer, shifted in her seat and then folded one leg under her on the chair.

Across from Dr. Mackenzie were Dr. Jackson and Teal'c, which was no surprise to Kay. Since they'd been banned from the Infirmary, she'd figured that those two would beat her to the meeting. As she picked up her pen, Dr. Brightman walked into the room and sat down next to her. Walter and Colonel Reynolds came in last. With obvious mixed feelings, the Colonel took the chair usually reserved for General O'Neill.

Teal'c's eyes glowed at the sight of the donuts and he immediately commandeered one, licking his fingers with relish. Kay smiled at him and couldn't help but notice how Daniel rolled his eyes. The counselor automatically filed away that little tidbit of info for later use as needed in her detailed analysis of the personnel of the SGC.

Reynolds cleared his throat nervously and nodded acknowledgement to those already seated. With an expectant look on his face, Sergeant Walter Harriman sat poised with a pen and pad ready to take down the minutes of the meeting.

Taking a deep breath, Reynolds laid his hands palm down on table. "As you know, the purpose of this meeting is to get more information about what happened to General O'Neill and Colonel Carter while they were being held by Fifth. It is our hope, and that of the Joint Chiefs and General Hammond, that this combined intel will result in speedy treatment and recovery of these two invaluable individuals."

He turned to Dr. Brightman. "Doc, what can you tell us about their present conditions?"

The CMO consulted her notes and then laid her clasped hands on the files in front of her. "Both are suffering from extreme physical exhaustion and malnourishment. I believe this is a direct result of their previous imprisonment." She paused and rifled through her paperwork. "According to my notes, both patients had complained of persistent nightmares in which they relived these traumatic events accompanied by a loss of appetite, depression, anxiety, and a lack of sleep."

Dr. Mackenzie broke in at this point. "I met with both patients on several occasions after a referral from Dr. Brightman. However, our sessions were . . . unsatisfactory. He licked his lips nervously. "It is my belief that the appropriate level of trust could not be established due to previous experiences which had, as you say, left a bad taste in their mouths."

The psychiatrist glanced at Dr. Jackson and Teal'c before lowering his eyes nervously.

Teal'c raised his eyebrows to his hairline. "Indeed."

For his part, Daniel pursed his lips and looked down at the tabletop, saying nothing.

Dr. Mackenzie cleared his throat. "Yes, well, that is why I approved the hire of Ms. Dow here. It was my feeling that the most important matter of consideration was not my ego, but rather the mental health of our patients."

His eyes shifted to the others seated around the table, the dark brown eyes seeming to ask forgiveness for his earlier errors in judgment.

Daniel cleared his throat and spoke in sarcastic tones. "Well, there's that, I suppose."

Teal'c laid a restraining hand on his wrist and nodded. "That was a wise decision, Dr. Mackenzie, and shall prove beneficial to O'Neill and Colonel Carter."

Dr. Mackenzie's eyes shifted nervously from Daniel's truculent gaze to Teal'c's hard obsidian eyes and then rearranged his notepad in front of him. "Ms. Dow, what can you tell us about their conditions?"

The psychiatrist's eyes held a plea in their dark depths that she couldn't help but answer. His admission of his previous misdiagnosis had surprised her, as she realized it must have cost him much to do so in front of so many witnesses. Not many professionals of any type would've been able to do such a thing and her respect for her new supervisor and coworker went up another notch.

I have met with both Colonel Carter and General O'Neill today, albeit in rather . . . strained circumstances."

Her mouth quirked in a half smile as she heard an answering snort from Dr. Brightman then pushed her glasses back up her nose and smiled before continuing. "I too believe that both patients are suffering from PTSD, or Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. Untreated, these symptoms can cause the body to break down due to the combined extra stressors of physical exhaustion and malnourishment. The seriousness of this condition was amply illustrated by today's events."

She turned to the female Doctor sitting beside her. "Dr. Brightman, can you explain why Colonel Carter was acting as if she could feel and hear the replicators?"

"Yes I can. According to our lab tests, both General O'Neill and Colonel Carter's test results showed a low potassium level in their blood. This would account for their odd and aggressive behavior, heart palpitations, muscle cramps and auditory hallucinations. I believe this was the cause of the Colonel's belief that she was dying. As for the General, his collapse seems to have been a case of a combination of extreme stress, fatigue, and hyperventilation. This coupled with a lack of sleep would make anyone have trouble distinguishing what was real, and . . .what wasn't."

Teal'c spoke with a hint of reprimand. "I too have been subjected to invasion of the mind by the Replicators. While under their domination, they sift through all memories and one is forced to relive certain . . . distasteful experiences. I too had much difficulty in discerning what was real and what was fiction." His chin lifted in challenge. "It is not an occurrence that I would choose to undergo again."

A flush of embarrassment colored the Doctor's cheeks. "I meant no criticism toward either of your friends. Their courage and valor have never been in question, at least not by anyone sitting here." She looked straight at Teal'c. "I merely was stating that the Colonel was not able to differentiate between what was real and what was in her mind."

She looked around as several heads nodded in understanding. "However, I have some news that I need some help with." She paused and fumbled with her pen, aware that all eyes were on her. "Both patients have insisted on having some sort of connection between the two of them. They were insistent, to the point where they believed that they would die if they were separated. Because of this, they were placed in the same room in beds side by side." She knitted her brows. "In fact, my nurse observed each of them offering comfort to each other after having separate periods of distress."

Kay brushed her hair behind her ears and half-turned in her chair. "What are you saying?"

Dr. Brightman looked nervous. "What I'm saying is that each one of them, first Colonel Carter, and then the General, each seemed upset, probably from nightmares. They reached out their hands and immediately quieted after they were able to touch each other."

Colonel Reynolds spoke with guarded tones. "So? What's so unusual about that?"

Dr. Brightman looked puzzled. "To my knowledge, they shouldn't have known that they were together." She turned her gaze to the others around the table. "They never regained consciousness, and I've had someone with them constantly since their collapse. How could they have known that the other one was upset and offer help?"

Colonel Reynolds spoke to break the silence. "I see. Perhaps Dr. Jackson or Teal'c might have an explanation?"

Kay watched as Daniel and Teal'c exchanged telling glances. Then the Jaffa raised an eyebrow and nodded.

Daniel puffed out a breath. "When we first found Jack and Sam, they did have such a link. According to Ernie, the Asgard Doctor, he discovered that Fifth had placed devices of some sort in both their brains that linked them in such a way that they couldn't be farther than three to five feet apart from each other without dying. These same gadgets were also transmitting radio waves that reported their status and position to Fifth and his replicators."

Kay leaned forward. "Did they report any sort of mind link, like telepathy or being aware of each others thoughts?"

Teal'c answered. "They did not. However, what one felt, the other did also."

Daniel bit his lip. "You're right, Teal'c. I remember when we were eating. They both had nosebleeds and passed out at exactly the same time." He looked around the room. "But, Ernie's tests said all those things were removed after we rescued them the second time."

Teal'c nodded. "Indeed. The Asgard did report that all such devices were removed after their retrieval. It does not explain their present abilities." He looked around the table, as if daring anyone to disagree with him.

Kay nodded. "You're right, it doesn't. Anyone have any ideas?"

When no one answered her, she continued. "Come on. I'm the new kid on the block. You all know their histories much better than I do."

In the hopes that someone might have some insight into the problem, she paused and tried a different avenue of approach. "Has either of them showed any unusual mental abilities in the past?"

The counselor smiled when this question was greeted by multiple snorts from around the room.

Daniel smiled. "Well, Jack did receive two downloads from the Ancients library of knowledge. After both, his brain scans showed an accelerated amount of brain activity."

Teal'c nodded. "However, after the second such occurrence, O'Neill was awarded the Ancient gift of healing as was demonstrated when he healed Master Bra'tac of his mortal wounds. Although he was unable to communicate by speaking, he seemed to sense my thoughts on numerous occasions."

Doctor Brightman looked puzzled, but excited. "I've read those reports too, but I thought that all that knowledge was successfully removed by the Asgard."

Teal'c pursed his lips and steepled his fingers. "From all evidence, this does not appear to be the case."

Kay's mouth hung open, as did Dr. Mackenzie's. Curiously enough, Neither Colonel Reynolds or Walter looked surprised, their expressions looked to be that of vindication.

She closed her mouth. "Are you saying that General O'Neill and Colonel Carter really do have this link? That they aren't making it up?"

Teal'c smiled. "Evidence would seem to support this hypothesis." He reached for another donut and Kay pushed the box to him. The rustle of the box sliding on the tabletop was the only sound in the room. Everyone seemed stunned into silence as they thought about the possible ramifications.

Kay puffed out a breath and sighed her astonishment. "Wow."

Daniel chuckled. "That would certainly explain a lot." He eyed his fingers as they rubbed rhythmically against each other. He frowned in thought. "So, do they do this all the time, or just when they're in trouble?"

Kay looked around the room for answers, but everyone else seemed as dumbfounded as she was so she blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. "I don't know. Maybe we should ask them."

She turned to face Dr. Brightman. "How long before we can talk to them again?"

The CMO bit her lip as she considered the question. "I'd like them able to think more clearly before you try that." She tapped her pen on the files. "Probably not before tomorrow. That would give them a chance to get some much-needed rest and for their body chemistry to start returning to normal levels."

Colonel Reynolds shifted in his chair. "Well, on that note, I propose we adjourn until tomorrow. In the meantime, I've got a phone call to make to General Hammond. He's been worried about the situation here and is considering flying down to take over command until General O'Neill is back on his feet."

Dr. Brightman broke in. "I don't see them getting back to duty for at least a week, sir. I'd like to keep them in the Infirmary where I can monitor their food intake and general condition. Part of the problem last time was that they weren't being entirely . . . honest about their symptoms and compounded the problems. I don't want that to happen again."

Reynolds nodded and smiled. "I'll pass that along to General Hammond, Doc."

Daniel smirked. "You plan to keep Jack in bed for a week? That'll be the day."

Teal'c added his smile. "Indeed. You shall require our assistance in this endeavor as O'Neill has shown himself to be a formidable opponent when it comes to circumventing the orders of his physician in the past. If it is permissible, I shall take first watch."

Dr. Brightman looked uncertain. "If you're quiet, I'll let you sit with them, but they aren't to be disturbed. They really need their rest."

The Jaffa bowed. "I shall be silent as a small rodent."

Daniel's eyebrows rose. "You mean, quiet as a mouse?"

One eyebrow rose on the Jaffa's inscrutable face. "That is what I said."

tbc


	6. Chapter 6

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 6

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 5, hurt/comfort, drama, UST.

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **It will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth, the Replicators, and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who have to watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. According to Jolene, I'm writing a romance now. Make of it as you will. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Kay walked into the VIP room and set her overnight bag on the king-sized bed. Once again she blessed the fact that she'd developed the habit of keeping a small suitcase with a fresh change of clothes in the car during her years working at the prison.

Turning, she nodded and smiled at her guide, Sergeant Harriman. "Thanks a bunch, Sergeant. This is more than adequate. Did you tell Josh where to find me?"

Walter stood in the doorway and nodded. "Yes, ma'am. He said he'd join you shortly. Something about fixing a noisy fan?"

Kay chuckled. "I was wondering how long it'd be until he got to that. He's been complaining about it ever since he stayed in the Infirmary as a patient. In fact he was talking about it over breakfast this morning. Seems that Siler has kept him so busy he hasn't had a chance to get to it until today."

Seeing him turn to leave, she took a hesitant step toward the door. "Walter?"

He stopped his exit and turned. "Yes, ma'am?"

"I just wanted to let you know how much I appreciate this. I knew I was too tired to risk driving down the mountain after dark, but what with the meetings this afternoon and catching up on reading all those files, it was dark before I knew it. Then when Josh saw me in the Commissary, he flat out told me I needed to stay the night."

Walter smiled. "It's no problem. This happens all the time, and you did get quite a workout today, didn't you?"

Kay sighed. "Yeah, I guess I did."

"It's us that should be thanking you, Kay. You were there and didn't lose your cool. You probably saved their lives."

The counselor blushed and looked at the floor, twisting her hands together. "I was just doing my job, the same way all of you do. It was no big deal."

"Well, it was to me, and to a lot of others here too. I'm just glad you joined us, Kay. Really, I am."

Kay stammered. "Um, okay, thanks I guess. I'm glad I'm here too."

Walter checked his watch. "I have to go now, ma'am. If there's anything you need, just let us know. Someone is on duty 24/7 here."

"I will, and thanks again."

The door closed and Kay took a good look around the room. It was sparsely furnished with the basics, a bed, dresser, two bedside tables, a desk, and TV made up the furniture. Part of one wall made up a walk in closet and a half open door led to the bathroom. Opening up her bag, she took out her cosmetics case and stepped into the bathroom to put it in on the vanity.

When she looked into the mirror there, she saw a haggard face with dark circles under her dark blue eyes staring back at her. She tried splashing cold water on her face, but the eyes still looked tired, as tired as she felt. As a matter of fact, after today's debacle, she'd felt like she'd been run over by a herd of elephants that had turned around and decided on a return engagement.

That thought decided her, so she quickly stripped and turned on the shower, making sure the water was hot. Then she padded naked into the room, laid out her pajamas, and headed back to the bathroom.

Once in the shower, she stood there, allowing the jet of hot water to beat the tension out of the muscles of her face and shoulders. Then she turned and let her tense back have its turn with the relaxing hot sprays of water.

By the time she was finished, she could barely keep her eyes open, so she dried herself off and wrapped a towel turban-style around her wet hair. Soon, she was lying under the covers flipping through the channels on the TV with her remote.

When she saw that the Sci Fi Channel had a repeat of "Wormhole X-Treme", she snorted and flipped to another station. Somehow, the series just didn't measure up to the real thing.

She must have dozed off watching the Discovery Channel, because the next thing she knew, the familiar scent of Josh's aftershave reached her nostrils. She smiled dreamily and reached for him.

"Hi." She felt him snuggle up to her in bed.

"Hi, Snookie." He shifted onto his back and she scooted over to lay her head on his shoulder.

"I meant to stay up for you, sorry." She rubbed his bare chest and smiled without opening her eyes. It felt so good just to lay there with him and listen to the sound of his breathing in the darkness.

"It's okay, I got delayed. But I did fix that fan."

Her fingers traced the smile on his lips and she giggled. "I knew you would."

"That sound was driving me crazy and just knowing that it was still there, rattling away, was bugging me. I had to do something, didn't I?"

"Of course you did, dear. And there was absolutely nothing obsessive compulsive about it, was there?"

"Of course not."

His hand played with strands of her wiry hair. "By the way, I heard you had quite a day."

Kay stiffened beside him. "Yeah, you could say that," she said noncommittally.

"From what I heard, you really impressed everyone with how you handled the situation."

Kay opened her eyes to peer up at her husband's face. "Really?"

His hand continued to stroke her hair. "Umm, hmm."

"Oh." She relaxed and closed her eyes again.

"Have I mentioned how proud I am of you lately?"

"I think so. Why?"

His lips bent to hers. "Well, Ms. Kay Dow, I still am proud of you."

When his mouth found hers, she returned his kiss with passion, and the world went away for a while.

Samantha Carter floated, merely existing, but that was enough for now. Her sense of touch reassured her that Jack was nearby. Her fingers tightened about his as she sighed in her sleep. It felt good to rest secure in the knowledge that her rest would not be dominated by fear-ridden dreams that robbed her of what her body so desperately craved.

When she felt long fingers tighten around hers in a comforting and protective squeeze, she sighed in contentment. For once, all was well and she steeled her mind from exploring any farther than that. No, for once, thinking and analyzing was not necessary, it was far better to relax and enjoy the moment. True, it felt. . . different to be so accepting of her current state of nirvana, but she'd earned it, right? Jack said so, and he'd never lied to her yet.

Her internal bliss was interrupted when loud voices intruded on her consciousness. She frowned, reluctant to leave her peaceful state, but the voices only became louder as they encroached on her slumber.

Careful to maintain her comforting contact with Jack's hand, she groaned and struggled to open heavy eyelids. The sound of voices resolved into words that were spoken in anger.

When she recognized the voices, her eyes snapped open in surprise. "Pete?"

Squinting her eyes against the bright overhead lights, she could make out the figures standing at the foot of her bed with their backs to her and Jack. Her voice sounded rusty and weak with disuse, like an old Victrola that had wound down.

She licked dry lips and cleared her throat. "Pete?"

This time her call produced results in the form of two heads that whipped around to look at her with dismay.

She watched with disquiet as Pete, her fiancé, shouldered his way past Teal'c. "What the hell is going on here?" he demanded.

Sam shook her head wearily, still too dazed to answer. The admonishment in Teal'c's tone said it all. "Colonel Carter requires rest. My place is to make certain that she is not disturbed."

Pete swung back toward the Jaffa, the frustration on his features transforming his face into that of a dangerous man. "Listen, you alien freak, Sam is MY fiancée and I can see her when I damned well please."

Teal'c's face looked bland and all the more dangerous for its seeming artless expression, "The physician left orders that Colonel Carter was to be left undisturbed. I was asked to ensure it." He nodded toward the woman in the bed. "As I shall continue to do so."

Pete Shannahan sputtered, then his eyes lit upon the clasped hands of Jack and Sam. His face grew flushed as his anger found a less dangerous target. "And what is the meaning of this shit, Sam?"

Sam's face flushed as she dropped Jack's hand like it had scalded her. Her eyes flickered down, avoiding Pete's angry gaze. "Listen to me, Sam." One beefy hand touched her cheek, forcing her to meet his angry brown eyes. "I come home from work and find you still gone. So I headed up here to check on you." His face softened as his voice took on a pleading note. "I was worried about you, honey. What was I supposed to do? Wait for you to eventually show up?"

The cop straightened his stance and put both hands on his hips as his face suffused with anger once again. "Then, once I get here, I'm told by this ALIEN that I can't see MY fiancé and she's playing pattycake with another man." His voice grew cool as he bent to talk directly to Samantha. "Is this how you get your promotions?" His face was deadly with fury. "By sleeping with your boss?"

Sam sucked in a breath of hurt anger, her eyes wide with shock. "Pete?"

Beside her, she could hear Jack whisper, low and deadly. "Get out."

Pete swung to the man in the bed. "Why? So you can play around with my girlfriend?" His tirade ended with a surprised squawk as his feet left the floor.

Burdened as he was with a struggling Pete Shannahan, the Jaffa still moved with a dignified grace. "You will leave now." He intoned as he continued toward the door. "Pray to your God that my eyes do not see you again."

Pete wriggled in a grip of iron. "Put me down, you overgrown ape."

"On my world I would be well within my rights to dismember you." Pete's bluster died away, leaving him hanging limp within Teal'c's meaty hands. As he exited the room, Sam could hear the Jaffa continue his lecture. "Not withstanding the fact that you have poured insult upon my name, you have also maligned the good name of those I serve." He shook his prisoner and the dangling shoes clacked together in a mockery of a Prussian salute. "Few still live who have done this in the past."

Sam let out a sigh, and then slumped deeper into her bed. Curling up into a ball, she faced the opposite wall away from Jack and stifled a sob.

The staccato beep from her bedside heart monitor gave her away. She bit her lip and wiped awkwardly at her face with the back of her free hand.

"Carter?"

The sound of feet hitting the floor made her flinch away. It was followed in close order by a muffled groan and the shuffle of feet on the floor. "Dammit, why do they have to keep the floors so damned cold in here?" he cursed under his breath. "It feels like a meat locker in here."

She knew he was leaning on the bedrails when she heard them creak with his weight. Sam pulled the sheet into her fist and hunched her shoulders as she tried her best to shut him and the rest of the world out.

To her reeling mind, she was saved from further talk by the entrance of several people. Dr. Brightman and Nurse Wells both came into the room. And they didn't sound happy.

"General O'Neill, what are you doing out of bed?"

Jack tried to bluff his way out of trouble. "Evidently YOUR job, Doctor. Colonel Carter was upset about her recent visitor and I was worried about her." Sam heard the creaking sound of Jack trying not to lean noticeably against his bed. "I thought it was your job to keep away pain-in-the-ass types who might bother her. Instead I wake up to hear Mr. Pete Shannahan yelling at her."

By now Dr. Brightman was at Sam's side as she swiped at her tear-stained face with the back of one and huddled on the bed. "Let me take a look, Colonel." The Doctor tugged gently at the sheets wrapped around Sam's shoulders.

In the background, Sam could hear Jack being herded back into bed by the nurse. "For crying out loud, I can get into bed myself," he muttered darkly. "I'm not that bad off."

"I'm sure you can, sir. I just want to make sure you stay there this time," the nurse responded in a no-nonsense manner.

Sam relaxed her fist and allowed the sheet to be pulled from her fingers.

The Doctor shot a look of apology to Jack. "I'm sorry, sir. He bullied his way in while I was at the commissary. Since it was so late and visiting hours were over, I thought I could take a break." She sighed and shrugged. "I guess I was wrong. He won't bother her again, though, I can guarantee it."

Sam dissolved into tears and hated herself for her weakness, but she couldn't seem to stop crying.

"Carter?" Jack's voice sounded worried.

The Doctor shook her head and pursed her lips. "You stay right where you are, General O'Neill or I'll sedate you." Then she turned back to Sam. "You really need your rest, ma'am. Would you like something to help you sleep?"

Sam nodded and sniffed.

"Damned doctors and their fricking needles," Jack muttered.

"I heard that, sir," the Doctor warned.

The sound of feet sliding against crisp sheets informed Sam that Jack had slid down into the safety of his bed. "Crap."

Heads turned as General Hammond entered the room. "Is there a problem here?"

Doctor Brightman strode to the foot of Sam's bed to meet him. "No, sir. Not now anyway. I'm just trying to get my two patients settled. They were disturbed by an earlier visitor and are having some trouble calming down."

"Pete Shannahan?"

"Yes, sir. How did you know?"

George allowed a smile to frame his reply. "I passed him in the hallway. He seemed to be in a hurry to get out of here. Said something about that crazy alien." He looked around the room. "Anybody have an ideas about what he was talking about?"

Jack smirked. "He was probably referring to Teal'c. Last time I saw him, the T man was carrying him out of the room, and not gently either. Said something about dismemberment?"

Hammond nodded. "That would explain it."

Sam wiped at her nose. "Was Pete hurt?"

Hammond walked around the bed and looked closely at Sam. "Not that I could see. I'm more worried about you," he turned to gesture to the other bed, "and Jack here."

Doctor Brightman sighed. "I was just about to give the Colonel a sedative, sir. It should give her some restful sleep and will keep her from having anymore nightmares." She looked sternly at O'Neill. "As for General O'Neill, I was considering giving him one too, since that may be the only way I can keep him in his bed."

Jack contrived to look innocent, but General Hammond didn't seem to buy it from the frown on his face.

"Jack?"

Jack's eyebrows rose. "Sir?"

"You up to your old tricks again?"

"Would I do that, sir?"

George sighed. "Now you see why my hair turned gray."

"What hair?" Jack winced as a flush of embarrassment crept up his cheeks. "Umm . . . sir."

Hammond grinned. "God, I've missed this place." He looked around and then beckoned to Dr. Brightman. "I've ordered that Mr. Shannahan not be allowed access to the SGC for now."

Sam sucked in a breath and hiccupped. "It's okay, sir. He was worried about me, that's all. He didn't mean that other stuff."

Hammond remained firm. "Nonetheless, you aren't to be disturbed right now, we need you out of that bed ASAP and that won't happen if you can't get your rest." He tapped the frame of the bed. "We can discuss this further when you're back on your feet, Samantha."

Sam nodded but remained curled on her side as she watched Dr. Brightman inject her IV port with medication. "I won't have any bad dreams?" she asked fretfully.

"No, none whatsoever," the Doctor reassured her.

Sam managed a smile and sighed. "Good."

Jack shifted restlessly in his bed, clearly as he weighed the pros and cons of going to Sam's aid. _'Crap, if I could, I'd rip Shannahan's head off and shit down his throat for what he did to Sam. But if I go to her, she'll see it as pity, besides the fact that I'd risk large needles stuck in my butt if I get out of bed. At least the Doc gave her something to knock her out. Too bad I didn't opt for the same. I'll never get back to sleep now.'_

Jack shook his head as thoughts continued to skitter through his brain. Then his lips curved into a self-satisfied smirk.

'_I'll have to make a point to congratulate T on the number he did on that jerk; something that I've been aching to do for ages . . . but didn't so I wouldn't hurt Sam.'_

He turned in bed to gaze at the woman in the bed beside him. From outward appearances, she looked peaceful now, lying on her back instead of being curled up in the fetal position.

'If there was only a way to know for sure that she's okay, that she's really gonna be all right. Wait a minute, maybe there is, but, can I really do it?'

O'Neill shrugged._ 'The only way I'll know is if I try. No harm in that, is there? Nope, there sure isn't.' _He took a deep breath._ 'Well, here goes.' _

Settling back into the mattress, he closed his eyes, a slight smile on his lips. His brows knitted together with concentration as he reached out to touch her . . . with his mind, to locate that mysterious link.

Warmth spread through his body and he urged this feeling of wellness to expand beyond his own, to reach out toward the figure lying in the next bed. He smiled as he felt the link snap into place, as if it'd never been severed. As he searched, he noted the unresolved anger and hurt that churned within the depths of her mind, like a riptide beneath the calm surface of the sea.

Seeking contact, he opened up a two-way communication within the link. _'Sam?'_

'_Jack?' Surprise colored her words. 'What are you doing here? I thought the link was broken.'_

_Jack mentally shrugged. 'Yeah, so did I, but I guess it's not. Go figure.'_

'_So tired, Jack.'_

"_I know, I can help . . . if you let me, that is.'_

'_How?'_

'_Do you trust me?'_

'_Of course, I do.'_

_Jack smiled encouragement. 'Good, now just relax and I promise you won't feel a thing.'_

'_Promise?'_

'_Yeah sure ya betcha.'_

Jack concentrated on expanding the flow of healing energy to encompass both himself and the woman on the bed beside him.

'_Holy Hannah!'_

'_You okay?'_

'_I feel great!'_

'_Good, you know that I haven't taken away the memories, Sam, just made things go away for a bit so you can get back on your feet and face the music. You'll still have to go see Kay.'_

"_Yeah, I know, but if I go, will you too? You need to you know.'_

'_Touché. Sure, I'll go too. I have the feeling she wouldn't stand for us skipping out on her anyway.' _

_Jack felt the bubble of Sam's giggle._

'_Now let's get some sleep so we can blow this Popsicle stand.'_

Both patients sighed in unison as smiles wreathed their peaceful faces.

tbc


	7. Chapter 7

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 7

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 6, hurt/comfort, drama, UST, romance (sigh).

**Pairings: **Jack/Sam

**Rating: **R

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **It will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth, the Replicators, and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Kay strode into the Infirmary with a bouncier step than she'd had the day before. Her face looked brighter in the mirror this morning too, a fact that Josh had unhesitatingly pointed out to her. That also probably explained the extra spring in his walk and the smirk of pride on his face . . . not to mention the glint in his eye.

It was true that the challenges of today didn't seem quite as daunting. No wonder Josh called making love the best sort of stress relief. Not only did it relieve all sorts of inner pressures, it took your mind off everything else, at least for a while. She resolved that she would have to remember that one.

The petite counselor stopped by the office of Dr. Brightman to check on the welfare of her two patients. A lot could happen overnight and she wanted an update before seeing them for herself.

One look at the bags under the CMO's eyes and the state of her rumpled clothing told Kay that the physician hadn't had a peaceful night. That was not a good sign and boded ill for the emotional state of her two patients. Kay firmly believed the equation of one cranky doctor plus the evening shift equaled one bumpy night for the patients.

With terse statements, Dr. Brightman filled her in on the ill-timed visit from Pete, Teal'c's solution and Carter's tearful reaction. She also let Kay know about the unexpected appearance of General Hammond on the scene.

They both agreed to visit General O'Neill and Colonel Carter together and then compare notes afterwards. As they approached the door, they could tell that at least one of the patients was awake.

Samantha Carter awoke with the feeling that she was late for work. Rolling onto her left side, she reached sleepily for her alarm clock. When her flailing hand met the hard steel of bedrails, she opened her eyes in puzzlement. Something was definitely wrong with this picture.

One look up at the ceiling confirmed her hypothesis: she was in the Infirmary. It took a minute of rummaging through recent memories to remind her of how she'd gotten there. Twisted and jumbled glimpses of confusion revolving around her experiences with Fifth and his toys brought her to the present circumstances.

Sam felt good. Better than she had in months. Her mind felt clear, and her stomach rumbled, a reminder that it was time for breakfast. That certainly hadn't happened in quite a while.

She laid back and stretched her arms over her head, a smile on her face. She'd just remembered the link from last night, and the peace and contentment that had been gifted her from the man in the next bed.

Carter eyed the IV still in her hand. It felt unneeded. One hand poised over it, and then with a sigh, she stopped, it would probably piss off the Doctor if she removed it herself. An innate feeling of wellness firmed her belief that, whatever the cause, it was no longer a necessity.

A grimace of sorrow mixed with anger and embarrassment showed her reaction to the midnight visit of her fiancé, Pete Shannahan. What was she going to do about that mess? And how dare he insinuate that she'd slept her way into the eagles on her shoulders? That hurt, not only that he'd said it, but the fact that he'd made those inflammatory statements in front of her CO and teammates made it even worse.

Her eyes tracked to the sleeping figure of Jack O'Neill. Like most career military people, she knew he was a habitual early riser, but he was still asleep. That was unusual. He looked pale too; not the healthy, well rested feeling that still suffused her body and mind.

For the first time she noticed the difference in the tempo of the beeps emanating from their bedside heart monitors. His was much slower than hers, and didn't vary at all.

Propped on one elbow, she reached toward him with the free arm, as far as the IV tether would let her. "Sir?"

There was no change, not in his face, nor from the beeping machine. Further, he hadn't responded to her call, which did not augur well for him. He was always so hyper-alert, probably a holdover from his black ops training. His vigilance was legendary among the personnel at the SGC. Something was wrong. Why was he still out of it when she felt great?

In the hope that he would respond, she spoke in a louder tone. "Jack!"

Still no response; she peered more closely and was further alarmed when she could barely see the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. This was so not a good thing, not at all.

Where was Teal'c? Maybe he would know something. A quick glance around the room showed him to be absent. "Teal'c?"

Footsteps heralded the arrival of Dr. Brightman, Kay Dow, and a nurse, behind them stood Teal'c.

As the nurse headed for her bedside, Sam motioned for them to hurry. "I'm fine, it's the General you need to check out." She chewed on her lip. "I tried calling his name, but he won't respond."

Sam craned her head, trying to see around the bodies surrounding the man in the bed next to her. When another nurse joined them, the first nurse began taking Sam's vital signs. Teal'c stood next to Kay near the door, well out of the way of the medical personnel.

Irritated and worried, Sam tried to shrug off the unnecessary attention. "Don't worry about me, I'm fine. Can't you see that?"

Her gaze searched out the Jaffa by the door. "Teal'c, what's going on?"

Teal'c bowed acknowledgement, but stayed put. "I am not certain, Colonel Carter. I had left but for a moment when you called."

Sam jerked her wrist out of the hands of the nurse beside her bed. Unperturbed, the nurse retrieved the wrist and resumed her duties. "You need to lie still, ma'am. I'll be through in a jiffy." She smiled encouragement.

Sam sighed in frustration. "What's going on with the General? Why doesn't he answer? He was fine earlier."

Nurse Kathy laid down her wrist and patted it. Then she moved to make a notation in her chart. "I don't know, ma'am. That's what we're trying to find out. So if you'd just lie still and let us do our jobs, we'll get some answers as soon as possible.

At the blonde-haired nurse's nod, Kay and Teal'c walked over to stand on the far side of Sam's bed while the slim nurse joined the other medical personnel surrounding Jack.

Kay put her hand on Sam's shoulder to draw her attention. "You said he was fine earlier? What did you mean by that?"

Sam wiped at her face and sighed. "It was after Pete left. I was pretty upset and the Doc had given me a sedative to help me to sleep. Jack . . . I mean, General O'Neill, could tell I was pretty upset, but I wouldn't talk to him." She looked at her hands, twisted once more in her sheet. "I didn't want to be around anybody or talk to them, more out of anger and embarrassment than anything else, I suppose."

She blinked away tears as she remembered the unfair accusations spewing out of her lover's mouth. "He said such awful things." Her chin ducked to her chest and then jutted out as her mouth firmed. "Even with the sedative, I was having trouble relaxing, but then I felt him reach out to me, not in the physical sense, mind you. We weren't even touching." She gulped. "I know this is going to sound crazy . . . but it was like he was holding me. I felt all warm and relaxed. And I could hear him inside my head, Kay. He was telling me that I would still need to talk to you even though he had taken some of the pain away."

She observed the counselor through narrow suspicious eyes, but saw no hint of scorn or disbelief in Kay's face or demeanor.

Kay nodded. "Go on."

Sam took a deep breath. "So I told him that if I saw you, then he'd have to talk to you too." She raised pleading eyes to the woman standing next to her. "That's all I remember." Her thumb rubbed against the sheet as she looked up again. "Oh, and he promised he would talk to you."

Then she lowered her eyes back to the crease she was making in the sheet. "The next thing I knew, I was waking up and I felt great, better than I had in months. And then I noticed that something wasn't right about the General." Her eyes tracked to the bustle hiding the still figure on the bed.

Sam's eyes hardened. "So now what? Do I get a one-way ticket to a padded cell, complete with a jacket with funny sleeves and lessons in basket weaving? Am I wacko, Doctor?"

Kay grinned. "Nope, that is unless you want one? But if you do, you'll have to get there on your own, because I sure ain't gonna send you." She chuckled. "Oh, and I'm not a Doctor. Call me Kay."

Sam's eyes widened. "You mean you believe me?"

Kay shrugged. "Is there any reason why I shouldn't?" Then she leaned forward and adjusted her glasses. "Can you feel that link now?"

Sam frowned in concentration and then sighed. "No, I can't. It's just not there, not like it was last night."

Dr. Brightman broke away from the group around the bed. "I'm sorry, but we've got to move the General out of this room now."

Sam sat up in bed. "What? Why? What's going on?"

As she watched, the bed containing an all-too-quiet Jack was slowly wheeled out of the room. Dr. Brightman paused at the doorway. "Believe me, I wish I knew." Then she left to follow her current charge.

Teal'c moved to Sam's bedside. "Tell me more of this link."

Sam shrugged. "Well, as you know, I wasn't doing so hot last night, and then I guess seeing Pete like that was the last straw." She wrapped her arms around her chest and took a deep breath. "Thanks for helping me out, Teal'c. You didn't hurt him, did you?"

"No, I did not. However, he seemed to . . . regret his choice of words."

"Thanks, Teal'c. I owe you one."

Teal'c bowed. "It is Pete Shannahan who owes me, Colonel Carter. He still lives only because of the pain his untimely death would cause to you."

Sam gulped and reddened. "Yeah, I kind of figured that out."

"I have never doubted your ability to perceive the intent of my actions. Nor do I now."

Kay interrupted as if uncomfortable with the conversation. "You were telling me about your link?"

Sam nodded and looked relieved. "It was kind of weird how the link felt, by that I mean that it was different this time." Her face took on a look of intense concentration. "It was like I didn't have any control over it, that Jack was the one initiating it." She looked at Kay and Teal'c. "Does that make any sense?"

Teal'c frowned. "Indeed, it does. This may be yet another indication of O'Neill's hidden gifts from the Ancients."

Kay tilted her head. "What do you mean?"

Teal'c clasped his hands behind his back and lifted an eyebrow. "After the second encounter with the library of the Ancients, O'Neill demonstrated the gift of healing on Master Bra'tac. I myself was witness to this. Immediately after, he collapsed in exhaustion."

Sam's eyes widened. "You mean that's why I feel so good this morning? Because Jack healed me?"

Teal'c nodded. "Indeed."

Kay waved her arms. "Wait a minute, give me a minute to catch up here." She turned to Sam. "You're saying that you feel great this morning, better than you've felt in months, right?"

Sam nodded, so Kay continued. "And you also say that you felt some kind of connection with General O'Neill last night?"

Sam smiled and nodded again.

The counselor turned to the Jaffa. "And now you're telling me that the General has demonstrated the gift of healing in the past, that he in fact got it from his last download from the Ancients?"

Kay groped blindly for a chair, which Teal'c supplied with a grin, whereupon, the counselor collapsed into it with a grunt. "Thanks, Teal'c. I needed that."

Teal'c bowed with a sardonic smile.

Kay wiped her forehead with an exaggerated sigh. "Tell me, are all your days like this?"

The Jaffa's eyebrows lifted. "Explain your request."

"Oh, I don't know. It's just like sometimes I feel like I'm in a weirder than life Science Fiction movie that no one in their right minds would believe was real."

Teal'c smirked. "Ya think?"

Sam's mouth fell open. "Teal'c. Did I just hear you say what I think you said?" She shook her head and chuckled. "You've been hanging around the General too long. I've got to write this down. Daniel will never believe it."

She gulped nervously. "Jack wouldn't either."

Sam brought her knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them. "Are you saying that Jack, I mean General O'Neill, healed me last night?"

Teal'c nodded. "I believe that is the case."

Carter tilted her head in thought. "Well, that would certainly explain why he wouldn't wake up this morning. He wore himself out healing me. That is so typical of him, and remind me to kick his ass when he gets better."

Kay leaned forward and rubbed her chin. "So, if he has this power, why can't he just heal himself?"

"In our past dealings with the Ancients, they have been unable to heal themselves, only others," Teal'c explained.

Sam rested her chin against her knees. "So, what now?"

Teal'c answered with his usual cryptic manner. "We wait."

Sam's attention was wrested from her Jaffa friend to the door with Nurse Kathy arrival, complete with needles.

Sam winced and slid down into the bed. "That isn't for me, is it?"

The blonde's blue-green eyes sparkled. "'Fraid so, hon. Doctor's orders." She laid her equipment on the bedside table and took out a syringe. "If the test results come out okay, she may let you out of this bed for a bit."

Sam bared her arm and looked away. "Oh, really?" she winced as the needle slid smoothly into her vein."

Kathy smiled. "Yes, really." She transferred tubes as the blood continued to dribble into the glass container.

She withdrew the needle and covered it quickly with a cotton ball and Band-Aid. "See? I didn't feel a thing."

Sam snorted and rolled her eyes.

Kay clearer her throat, "Where's Dr. Brightman? We have some information that might give her some insight into what's going on with the General."

Kathy continued putting her paraphernalia into their compartments. "The last time I saw her, she was supervising some tests on the General. I'll let her know that you want to see her. Will that do?"

The counselor smiled. "Of course it will. In the meantime, I'll be here with Colonel Carter."

"Can I have something to eat? I'm starving," wheedled Sam as her stomach gurgled in agreement.

Kathy laughed. "I'll see what we can get you and bring it myself."

Jack was alone in darkness. No matter which way he turned, it seemed to stretch on forever, leaving him feeling as if he were swaddled in a heavy black curtain of velvet that separated him from the rest of his world.

At times, he could feel hands on his body, and muffled voices penetrated the curtain surrounding him. But try as he might, he could not decipher what was being said. He'd tried several times to lever his eyes open, but that proved an impossible task.

If only he weren't so tired . . . no that didn't quite describe how he felt. It went beyond tired, more like exhausted, bone-weary, done in, pooped, dog-tired, weary, bushed, and the fat lady got laryngitis, tore up her contract, and eloped with Elvis.

For crying out loud, can't a man get any sleep around here? At least that danged beeping noise was gone, and that was a huge honkin' blessing. It had been getting on his last dang nerve and he'd had happy thoughts of blowing it to kingdom come with a packet or two . . . or three . . . of C-4. Never had the stuff around lately when he needed it though. Crap.

Part of him insisted that he should be more worried about his inability to connect with his world. But that voice was tiny, and unable to rouse him to take action. That would've taken energy, and he didn't have any to spare. It was taking everything he had just to keep his heart beating, breathing was way up there on his current list of priorities too.

Everything else would just have to wait. He knew instinctively that Sam would be okay; he'd made sure of that last night. And with General Hammond back at the helm, the SGC was in capable hands, hands that were an improvement on his own fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants methods.

Jack slipped deeper into darkness, uncaring that all sense of time and place was absent.

An hour later, Dr. Brightman had joined Kay and Teal'c in Sam's room. Kathy had kept her promise and brought her a breakfast tray with toast, herbal tea, and red Jell-O. Not exactly what Sam would've chosen, but it was a start. Sam was munching on the wheat toast and had come to the conclusion that it had never tasted so good.

They had taken turns on bringing each other up to date. Dr. Brightman was finishing up with the results of her latest MRI of the General. "According to my tests, General O'Neill is unconscious, in a coma-like state. He seems to be aware of us at times, but can't or is unable to respond. For now, he's breathing on his own, but I've stationed a nurse in the room with him at all times." She shook her head. "The labs show no reason why he should be like this, so at this point, I'm willing to look at more . . . unconventional explanations."

"After exerting her powers, the Ancient, Ayiana, also collapsed, as did O'Neill," Teal'c intoned. "I believe that he has done so again."

Kay furrowed her brow in thought, her fingers steepled at her lips. "How do you tell if someone has this gift? Is there some kind of test, or does it just show up by accident?"

Dr. Brightman smiled. "That's a question I can answer. Thanks to the cooperation of General O'Neill, we've been able to isolate the Ancient gene in other humans. In fact, we routinely test all new personnel who come to work at the SGC." She nodded at Kay. "Yours hasn't come back yet. Since it involves getting down to the genetic level, it takes a bit longer to get the results back. Yours should be coming back any day now though."

The counselor tucked a stray stand of hair behind an ear. "Just how common is this gene and what kind of abilities does it give you?"

Sam washed down the last piece of toast with some tea. "Let me answer that one. The gene is fairly rare and has been passed down from some common Ancient ancestors in our distant past. I don't have the gene, and neither does Daniel, even though he spent a year being Ascended. A couple of people we sent on the Atlantis project had it. The gene seems to allow you to operate some of their equipment we've found on various worlds. Only a few people have been able to use it to heal though, and the General couldn't do that the first time."

Kay pursed her lips. "Oh, um, could you tell me again what the healing thing felt like, Colonel?"

Sam shrugged and nodded. "Sure, it felt all warm and tingly, almost like an electric current was flowing from the General to me. He was able to talk to me too, I mean, he could send me his thoughts. Does that make sense?"

The counselor continued. "And he didn't have to touch you?"

Sam shook her head, puzzled. "No, but he did when he healed Bra'tac, didn't he?"

Teal'c nodded. "Yes, he laid his hand on Master Bra'tac's mortal wound and healed it and then collapsed into my arms."

Kay had grown pale, her eyes slitted in thought. "I wonder . . ."

Dr. Brightman turned to the seated counselor. "What?"

She waved her hands dismissively. "Huh? Oh it's probably nothing."

"It is the fool who keeps a treasure in his own pocket for his own admiration," Teal'c intoned.

Sam smothered a giggle. "I think he's telling you to spill it, Kay."

Kay sighed and pushed her glasses up on her nose nervously. "It's probably nothing. It just reminded me of something that happened a long time ago, back when I was still in college." She curled a loose strand of her thick salt and pepper hair behind an ear and settled into her chair. "My Grandpa had just died and I was staying overnight with my Grandma. She was understandably upset, they'd been together for over sixty years and although they fought like cats and dogs, they were inseparable."

Kay wiped her hands nervously on her pants. "So, I was sleeping next to her in bed that night and I wanted so badly to help her rest. I could tell she wasn't sleeping and I loved her so, it tore me up inside to see her in such pain." She gulped and continued. "Anyway, I'd learned how to meditate while I was in college so I got this idea that maybe I could transfer the calming energy I felt in my body over to her." Her thin hands mimed her thoughts. "But I didn't want to touch her for fear that I would scare her or she'd think I was being weird."

Sam looked at Kay with rapt attention, her breakfast forgotten. "So, what happened? Did it work?"

Kay nodded with reluctance. "Yes, at least I think it did. That night she had a dream where her husband appeared to her, young and full of life again. She went to her death two years later with the belief that he'd appeared to her. And that he wasn't suffering anymore."

The silence was broken by Dr. Brightman. "Has this happened any other times?"

Kay nodded and bit her lip.

The Doctor got up from her chair. "I think I've got some test results to check. I'll be right back."

Kay had adjourned to the privacy of her office, too shaken by the day's events and the possible implications to be able to concentrate on anything around her. She knew that she needed guidance, and the only place she could find her answers would be from God.

Bowing her head over her clasped hands, she sent a prayer for aid winging its way to the heavens above her, certain that she would be heard.

'Dear God, I'm a little out of my league here. I know that you grant us many gifts that are to be used to serve Your will. Do I have this special gift of healing? And if so, what does that make me? Some kind of alien carnival freak that has a 900 number and wears a silly turban and long dangly earrings?'

She snorted at the mental picture of her dressed as a gypsy palm reader. _'Yeah, I know, it's silly, but I did say I needed your help, didn't I? Well, I guess that proves it.' _

She wiped her forehead and it came away clammy. _'You do realize that this has me scared, don't you God? Cause if I really do have this gene, then what do I do with it? And what does that make me . . . and my kids? Am I still your child, even if it just so happens that I've got some not so human genes running around in my DNA? And last but certainly not least, how am I supposed to explain this to Josh? I mean, it's not as if I just got a new car, or anything easy like that. It's more like I just grew another arm.'_

'You know, God, I could really use some answers right about now, because this one-sided conversation isn't giving me what I need. So how about it? Send me a sign, or a messenger of some sort to help me out here. Okay? And, whatever happens, I know You will keep me safe in the palm of Your hands. Amen.'

Kay's prayer was interrupted by a knock on the door. "Come in," she called out, as she didn't have the energy at that point to get up out of her chair.

Dr. Brightman walked into the room holding some paperwork in her hands. "I've been making some phone calls. To make a long story short, I got back your test results." She crossed to sit in the chair opposite Kay.

The counselor stiffened. "And?"

"The tests show you as being positive for having the Ancients gene." She looked up at Kay. "Congratulations."

The counselor sagged into her chair. "Wow, thanks . . . I think." She cradled her forehead in her hands. "Give me a minute to take this in."

Brightman shrugged and settled back in the chair. "Let me know when you're ready, because you're bound to have a few questions for me."

Kay nodded, her eyes big. "What will this mean for me? And my job, will it change that?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I don't know. We haven't had many positives, so we tend to treat each one on an individual basis. So the answer to your other questions about your job is a firm, 'I don't know.' Sorry, I wish I could tell you more." She pursed her lips. "Listen, is there anyone or anything I could get for you? You seem kind of stunned by the news."

The counselor blew out a breath. "Yes, could you tell Josh, my husband to haul his ass over here? I'd like to talk to him about this."

Brightman nodded. "Sure."

She shook her head in dismay. "You mean to tell me that I really did all those things, helped my Grandma and my baby brother to feel better? It wasn't just my ego talking or my imagination?"

"I can't say for sure, but the evidence would suggest that it really did happen. And if you did it once, you likely could do it again."

"You mean, like with General O'Neill?" Kay asked in wonder.

"Possibly. The only way we'll know for sure is if we try it."

Kay's hands left her face and settled on the cushions of the chair. "Well, if you're game, I am. I mean, the worst that could happen is I could fail and look like an idiot." She grinned at her companion. "Right? And the best that could happen, is that I could help out the General."

The Doctor smiled in triumph. "Regardless of how it turns out, you've still got the Ancients gene." She paused. "So . . . you wanna try it?"

"You betcha I do." She grinned back as she stood and offered her arm. "Shall we?"

Brightman smirked back and bowed. "After you, ma'am."

tbc


	8. Chapter 8

**Title: "**What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 8

**Author: **dinkydow

**Email: **Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 7, hurt/comfort, drama, UST, romance (sigh).

**Pairings: **Jack/Sam

**Content Level: **18+

**Season:** Season 8

**Spoilers: **"Full Alert" It will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth, the Replicators, and Season 8.

**Warnings: ** Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

**Summary: **Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

**Disclaimer: **Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

**Dedication: **To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who watch them march in harms way.

**Author's Notes:** Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Instead of heading straight to the Infirmary, Dr. Brightman and Kay made a brief phone call to Dr. Mackenzie and then made a detour to the General's office. Having been in the military herself, the counselor knew the importance of keeping the chain of command informed. She also knew that shit rolled downhill, and that the best way to keep it from burying you was to keep the people at the top in the loop. Both her and the CMO had agreed that anything they tried insofar as treating General O'Neill would have to be approved by the acting CO, General Hammond.

Sergeant Harriman met them in the control room and chivvied them in to see him.

Even though she knew that it had originally belonged to Hammond, it felt strange to be stepping into the office that Kay thought of as belonging to General O'Neill with someone else sitting behind the desk.

Kay swallowed nervously as they walked into the room. They'd already agreed that, as the CMO, Dr. Brightman would do most of the talking. Kay was only too happy to agree to that arrangement. As an enlisted person in the Army, she'd made it a habit to avoid the higher-ranking officers, as her mouth had usually gotten her into trouble in the past. She hoped her knees weren't noticeably shaking as she swallowed the lump in her throat and pushed her glasses up on her nose.

General Hammond frowned in question and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. "You needed to see me?"

Kay sank down gratefully and clasped her hands nervously in her lap, with her legs crossed at the knees; she bounced the other to rid herself of nervous energy.

After sitting, Dr. Brightman answered. "Yes, sir. We have some new information that may have some bearing on General O'Neill's case."

"Go on," Hammond steepled his fingers.

Brightman took a breath. "According to test results, Kay Dow has the Ancient gene."

He nodded. "I see, but what does that have to do with General O'Neill?"

Brightman looked at Kay. "Maybe you can explain it. Sorry, Kay, but I feel like I'm a bit out of my league."

She bit her lip and took a breath. "Imagine how I feel."

General Hammond sighed tiredly and rested clasped hands on the desk. "Would you mind telling me what's going on?"

"Sorry sir. It's just that I'm not used to being around generals so I'm a little nervous. I tend to stay away from them, generally speaking." Then she clasped her hands over her mouth, her eyes wide.

Hammond's eyes rose to meet his non-existent hairline and the Doctor smiled.

Looking down, the flustered counselor shook her head. "Oh no, I did it again." She looked up, her face flushed. "Sir."

Chuckling, he shook his head. "No, Kay. It's all right. I just didn't expect that one."

Then he sobered. "Now, you were saying?"

Kay nodded and swallowed with a suddenly dry throat. "Well, it's like this, sir. In the past, before I knew anything about having a special gene, I was able to help people out, kind of like healing them. I didn't know how I did it, or even for sure if I was doing anything, I just did it. Then when Teal'c was talking about how General O'Neill had healed someone, it reminded me of what I'd done in the past. So when Dr. Brightman told me I had this gene . . . well, we were thinking that I could try healing General O'Neill." The last few words were blurted out, as if she were afraid she might change her mind at the last minute.

The petite counselor looked down at hands that were so tightly clasped that white knuckles showed. "That is if it's okay with you." She paused, uncertain. "Sir."

Hammond studied them with calculating eyes. "Let me get this straight. You have this gene of the Ancients and you want to try healing Jack?"

Kay gulped and nodded.

"What makes you think you can help him when Dr Brightman can't even figure out why he's unconscious?"

Kay shrugged, uncomfortable with the scrutiny. "I don't know for sure that I _can_ help, sir. But I'd like to try. He's done so much for my husband, and me; so if there's anyway I can help him out . . ." She took a deep breath. "Besides, if I _do_ have this gift, it would be wrong not to use it to help him, wouldn't it?"

The General turned his attention to Dr. Brightman. "What's your opinion, Doctor? My number one concern is keeping my people safe. Can she help him? And will it do any harm?"

Dr. Brightman wrinkled her brow in thought. "As to whether it will help or not, I don't really know, sir. All I do know is that my patient isn't responding to anything I'm doing for him right now. So, if there's even a chance that Kay could help, I'm willing to let her try."

Hammond looked pensive. "We'll let you take a crack at it, but only if Jack's physical condition is monitored at all times. If he's in any danger, I want the procedure stopped immediately. Understood?"

Kay gulped. "Of course, sir. I wouldn't want to hurt him, not for anything."

Hammond's face softened. "I know you wouldn't do it on purpose, Kay. It never hurts to be careful though."

Fifteen minutes later, Kay was seated in a chair next to Jack O'Neill's bed. According to the latest tests, there'd been no change in his condition. He remained comatose for reasons as yet unknown. The steady beep-beep of the monitor helped calm Kay's rapidly beating heart.

She looked toward the observation window off to the side. General Hammond could be seen standing there, his attention on the scene below him. Beside him were Daniel Jackson and Dr. Mackenzie. Dr. Brightman and Teal'c were with her in the room, standing near the door.

The counselor was nervous and just a bit apprehensive as she took a calming breath. _'Lord, what have I gotten myself into? It would help just a bit if I didn't have such an audience for this. I'll never live this down if I screw up now, not with all these people watching.'_

In order to better concentrate, she bowed her head and folded her hands in prayer. _'Dear Lord, is this Your will that I do this? If it is, I ask that you supply me with the power to heal this man. For I know that all power for life and healing comes through You.'_

She opened her eyes and looked down upon Jack's still form._ 'Lord, I believe this is a good man, one who is still needed to help others. If it is Your will, send down Your healing grace and allow me to help him.'_

Mentally humming a favorite hymn, she raised her hands and placed them on Jack's forehead. For a second, she flashed to Spock and his Vulcan mind meld. With a frown, she shook her head to clear it of distractions.

At first, nothing happened, so she concentrated harder in an effort to let a feeling of calmness and peace envelope her and her charge. A tingling in her arms and hands told her she was making some progress. She bit her lip and sent a mental call.

'_General O'Neill!'_

Her call met with a swirling blackness, so she tried again_. 'Jack?'_

In the midst of the inky darkness, she heard a faint, but irritated response. _'What?'_

Jack O'Neill wandered alone in the darkness, one he couldn't seem to escape. At first, he could detect the outside world, if he really concentrated, however, after a time, that too disappeared, leaving him stranded in a dark and lonely prison. Vaguely, he could recall the events leading up to his imprisonment, and realized his own actions had resulted in his being there. Somehow, it didn't seem fair. After all, he'd only been trying to help out Sam.

Surrounded as he was by inky nothingness, he was surprised when a sound penetrated the stygian gloom. For a moment, he wondered if he'd imagined it, so he listened for a repeat. When it came, he was ready with a response.

'_What?'_

The voice came again and he thought he recognized it._ 'Jack?'_

'_Who are you?'_

'_It's me, Kay.'_

'_Oh, what are you doing here? And where are we?'_

'_We're inside your mind, sir.'_

'_It figures. No wonder it's so dark and empty.' _

He paused a beat, gathering his thoughts._ 'So, what brings you to my neck of the . . . my mind?'_

Kay's chuckle rippled in the darkness, shading it with permutations of blues and mauves._ 'I'm communicating with you the same way you did with Colonel Carter. It seems you and I have something in common.'_

'_You've got the danged gene?'_

'_Guilty as charged.'_ Her tone was rueful.

'_I'm sorry to hear about that, Kay. How're you holding up?'_

'_Fine so far. Of course, I haven't told Josh yet though.'_

'_Well, that should be interesting. So, what now?'_

'_Can you open your eyes? There are an awful lot of people depending on you, sir.'_

'_You mean I can open my eyes, just like that?'_ His tone was doubtful.

'_I hope so, sir. That's why I came. To bring you back.'_

Jack had been so engrossed in his conversation that he'd failed to notice the gradual lifting of the black pall that had enveloped him and the return of his ability to sense the outside world.

'_Hey, I do feel a bit better, and it's not so dark in here now. Thanks, Kay.'_

'_It wasn't me, Jack. It was God, I was just His instrument.'_

He paused for a moment and when his answer came it was fraught with hidden meanings that would take time to decipher and analyze._ 'Of course you were, Kay. Umm, thanks to both of you, then. What's your point?'_

Kay gave a sigh of resignation and decided that was one battle of wits that would have to wait for another time and place. Jack's mental chuckle echoed in her mind, reminding her of their close mental link.

'_That's a start. I would love to continue this discussion later because I could sure use some pointers about how to get a handle on this special gene thing.'_

'_No problem, kiddo, I'll teach you what I know about this crap, but it may be a case of the blind leading the blind. If you know what I mean.'_

'_I'll take all the help I can get, sir. Thanks.' _

Kay gave him a mental shove and then withdrew.

Jack opened his eyes, and immediately squeezed them shut again. "Crap!" he muttered as he flung one arm across them.

"Sorry, sir. Try it now," an unknown female voice responded.

Cautiously, he squinted from under the cover of his arm. When nothing happened, he lowered his protective barrier. Gradually, things around him came into focus. He could see Teal'c bending over him. When he turned his head, he saw the figure of Kay slumped into a chair.

"Hey, you all right, Kay?" he murmured.

Her head popped up and she ran her fingers through her hair sweeping it away from her face. "Yes, sir. Just give me a minute. That kind of took it out of me."

Kay cocked her head. "You really heard me?" She tapped the side of her head. "In here?"

"Ya think?" Jack grinned.

"Wow." Kay shook her head in wonder.

"Tell me about it." O'Neill turned to face Teal'c, noticing for the first time that Dr Brightman had moved into place and was brandishing a pen light like a weapon.

"Ack, keep that thing away from me."

Dr Brightman frowned and moved closer. "I just need to do a few tests. It's SOP for this sort of situation, sir."

Jack's eyes roved the room frantically. "Teal'c? Help me out, here, buddy."

The Jaffa backed away. "I cannot."

"Aww, come . . . oomph." Jack sputtered from around the thermometer that had been deftly stuck in his mouth.

Kay smothered a giggle with one hand, only to receive a glare from Jack. "Sorry, sir."

Dr. Brightman snagged his wrist. "It'll be over in a minute, sir. I won't feel a thing."

Then she took the beeping thermometer out of Jack's mouth, picked up his chart and made notations. Nodding her head, she smiled. "So far, everything is normal. The blood work will tell me the real story though."

"Didn't you blood suckers get it all last time?" Jack grumbled.

As he turned to talk to Kay, he noticed her head drooping onto her chest. "Kay? You all right?"

Like a puppet on a string, her head jerked up. "Huh? Oh, sure. Just a bit tired, that's all."

"Why don't I have you checked out, just to be on the safe side?" The Doctor circled the bed to get to her side.

"I'll be fine, really." Kay shook her head.

Jack's chuckle drew her attention. "You might as well give in, you know. She won't leave you alone until she checks you out. I know that from experience."

The counselor sighed. "Oh, all right. But could you ask Josh to come see me? He still doesn't know about any of this."

Dr. Brightman turned to Teal'c. "Could you help her up? I need to get her to another room because I have the feeling that General O'Neill is about to get some visitors."

"I would consider it an honor to give aid to her that healed my warrior brother." Teal'c nodded.

"Me? You don't need to make a fuss." Kay blushed. "I can walk just fine by myself. "

"I'm sure you can, Kay. But humor me. Let Teal'c give you a hand. Okay?" Brightman sighed.

The counselor took a deep breath and tried to sit up straighter. "Oh, all right, but I'm fine. You'll see."

Jack watched in amusement as Teal'c helped Kay to stand. Even to his eyes, he could see that she looked white as a sheet, and leaned far too heavily on the muscular arm of the Jaffa. A fact that belied her protests to the contrary.

He sat up in bed and waved. "See ya later, kids. And I do want to have that chat sometime, Kay. I mean it."

Kay appeared breathless. "Thanks, sir," she panted.

They passed General Hammond on his way into the room. With growing apprehension, Jack noted that the bald Texan looked worried and relieved, at the same time. He had the feeling that he was in for one heck of a debriefing. Crap.

Kay sighed with frustration as she looked around at the room. They were painted a boring neutral gray and thin pipes formed vertical lines snaking from electrical outlets and disappearing into small holes in the ceiling tiles. The tiles were white with tiny black dots. She knew this because she'd checked. Several times.

She grimaced and rolled her eyes. Despite the fact that her tests had shown no ill effects from her session with General O'Neill, Dr. Brightman had insisted that she stay overnight in the Infirmary for observation. The only thing she needed to observe was her husband and kids in her own house, no thank you very much. When the General had laughingly told her that she couldn't win one against the Doctor, he'd been right on the money.

To make matters worse, she had yet to see her husband and she'd been wracking her brain trying to figure out just how the heck she was going to break the news to him about her special gene. They didn't exactly cover this sort of thing in her texts about marital relationships in college.

And as for writing a book about her adventures, the only way she could do that is if she classified it as science fiction. If she tried to tell people all of her adventures were true, she'd probably get locked up for leaking classified secrets, and having seen prison from one side of those bars, she had no desire whatsoever to find out what the view from the other side was like.

She slid down farther into the covers and shivered as a chill ran up her arms, making goose bumps pop out on her skin. Covering a yawn with one hand, she pulled the blanket up to her chin.

The blonde-haired nurse from before stuck her head in the door. "How ya doin'?"

"Fine! I'm doing fine. So can I go now?" Kay grimaced.

The nurse shook her head and walked to her bedside. "Now, you already know the answer to that, Ms. Dow." Once she got close enough, she picked up the counselor's wrist and stared at her watch.

Kay's eyes rolled again. "I told you I'm fine. There is nothing wrong with me, so why do you have to keep doing that?"

She laid down the wrist and stuck both hands on her hips. "I do it because I'm doing my job. Now I realize you don't like being stuck here, but you don't have to take it out on me, do you?"

The counselor looked down. "You're right, I'm sorry." She looked up with a frown of puzzlement on her face. "Forgive me, but I can't remember your name."

The nurse smiled and patted her shoulder. "That's all right, hon, you've had a pretty rough day, from what I hear. By the way, my name's Kathy, Lieutenant Kathy Dalton."

Sticking her hand out, Kay returned the smile. "Nice to meetcha, Kathy. You already know who I am."

"Yes, and about what you did for our General O'Neill. I'd like to thank you for that."

Kay blushed and looked away. "I wish you wouldn't say that," she mumbled.

"What do you mean?"

She kept her eyes averted sheepishly. "About what I did for the General. It's embarrassing."

"Embarrassing? What do you mean by that?" Kathy's voice held a note of disbelief that caught the counselor's attention.

Kay's hands waved in frustration. "Well, I only did what anyone else would do, and now everyone is making a big deal of it. So I helped him, big deal, that's what I do all the time, I'm in the helping business, so I help people." She sighed in exasperation. "Almost makes me wish I'd never heard of this stupid gene."

"Is that what this is about, the gene?"

"No," Kay growled. "Maybe . . . I don't know." She blushed when the last words came out as a whine.

Kathy pulled up a chair and leaned forward with her elbows resting on the bed. "Finding out you have this gene kind of threw you for a loop, huh?"

Kay wiped at her face with her hands. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean all I've ever really wanted to do in life was be a counselor and help people. And I felt like I was doing that, really making a difference, you know? But all the while I was doing this, I was doing what came natural to me, something I've felt called to do. But it was nothing out of the ordinary, just being a good counselor. Then BAM, the next thing I know I'm told I have this gene that makes me not normal, more like . . . Abby Normal."

Kathy snorted.

Kay cringed and covered her face with both hands. "Would you listen to me? Now, I sound like a whining baby." She kept her face buried in her hands, not daring to look at the nurse sitting next to her.

The gentle touch of a hand on her shoulder caused her to raise her head. "Huh?"

The pretty blue-green eyes of the nurse gazed sympathetically at Kay. "If you ask me, I don't think you sound like a whining baby at all."

Tears tracked down the counselor's cheeks as she swiped ineffectually at her runny nose.

Kathy handed her a tissue that the counselor took with a tremulous smile. "Thanks, I'm not usually like this, must be that I'm tired."

The nurse rolled her eyes. "Yep, that must be it. It would have absolutely nothing to do with the fact that you've had a rough day and just found out something that will change your whole life. Right?"

Kay blew her nose loudly, and then wiped it and leveled a look of mock censure at her companion. "Nah, that wouldn't be it at all. Isn't that supposed to be my line?"

Kathy smiled. "So, how am I doing? Was I right on the money?"

The counselor gave her a rueful smile and wadded the tissue in one fist. "I'd say you hit the bulls-eye with that one. It doesn't mean I like it though."

"I can't tell you I know how you feel, because I don't. All I can do is listen, take your vitals and report them to my boss. That's what I do because I'm a nurse." She cocked her head to one side. "Although it does sound like you're still going to be doing your same job, just with a few more tools at your disposal."

A sound at the door made her turn her head and get up from the chair. "May I help you, sir?"

Kay's eyes went wide. "Josh!"

Rushing to the bedside, the gray-haired man ignored the nurse, his hazel eyes flashing concern. "Kay! What's wrong? They told me you were in the Infirmary, but the Doc won't tell me why."

Dr. Brightman walked into the room and nodded to Kathy. "That'll be all for now, I'll take it from here."

Kay smiled at Kathy. "Thanks."

Kathy patted her shoulder and stood. "Anytime, Kay. And good luck to you." Then she walked quickly out of the room.

Josh took Kathy's place by his wife's bed, the frustration on his face showing clearly. "Would someone mind telling me what the blue blazes is going on here?" he growled. "After all, this is my wife we're talking about."

Kay's eyes once again brimmed with tears as she sent a look of entreaty to the Doctor. "Could you please explain it to him? I don't know if I can."

Josh sank into the chair recently vacated by the nurse and cradled his wife's hand in his larger ones. "What's wrong, honey?"

Dr. Brightman grabbed another chair and pushed it toward Josh. "I'm sorry I couldn't tell you more in the hallway, but I thought it would be better if Kay were present when I told you."

"So? Tell me what?" Josh gestured with his free hand.

The Doctor took a deep breath. "Today we discovered that your wife has the gene of the Ancients. By the way, your results showed that you don't have it." She held up her hand to forestall Josh's impatient questions. "What that means is that your wife is one of the few people we've found that has the capability of operating Ancient technology. Furthermore, today she demonstrated the ability to communicate on a mental level with General O'Neill and apparently healed him."

Kay watched warily as Josh slumped back into his chair. She squeezed his hand reassuringly.

Dr. Brightman continued. "I'm sure that you'll have lots of questions once you've gotten over the initial shock of the news. But in the meantime I want to assure you that your wife is only staying here the night so we can keep an eye on her." She shrugged. "To be honest, we don't have much experience in dealing with this sort of thing and just want to make sure she isn't suffering any ill effects from her experience. In the near future we'll have to do more tests to discover the extent of her abilities."

"What kind of tests?" Kay twisted the tissue in her free hand nervously.

"The first thing we'll do is a genealogical history. We want to figure out where this gene came from . . . and if anyone else in your family tree carries it."

Biting her lower lip, Kay opened her mouth to speak, when it came out hoarse, she cleared her throat and tried again. Her words came out as more of a statement of fact rather than a question. "You want to test my kids."

The Doctor nodded. "With your permission, yes."

Josh's jaw jutted out dangerously. "You're damn Skippy you'll need our permission," he snarled. "There is no way you're gonna mess with my wife and kids."

Kay removed her hand from her husband's tightened grasp and rubbed it. "You're hurting me."

Josh's eyes widened and he stared at Kay in consternation. "What? Oh, I'm sorry. It's just that all this shit is pissing me off."

"So how do you think I feel about it?" his wife snapped. "Finding out I've got this weird gene hasn't exactly made my day either, you know."

His face went white and he jumped out of his chair to pace the floor. Seeing this, Kay's features crumpled. Her hands went back to hide her face. "Oh no, I'm making a mess out of everything now."

Dr. Brightman arose from her chair to stand in front of Josh. He stopped within inches of her, belligerence in his stance. Her voice had an edge of serrated steel. "Mr. Dow, I need you to calm down. Kay's had a very tough day and she really needs her rest. For your information, the only reason General O'Neill is doing better is because of your wife. We're not exactly sure what she did yet, but we do know that he would still be unconscious if she hadn't intervened."

Josh's enraged demeanor melted to one of worried concern. "My Kay did that?" He sank into the chair and shook his head in wonder. "I'd heard that he was doing better, but had no idea why."

A nod confirmed it. "Yes, she did. And now she needs peace and quiet to recover. I have the feeling that she'd going to be very busy in the next few days."

His eyes narrowed. "You mentioned other tests?"

Her narrow face looked thoughtful. "Yes, but to tell you the truth, I'm not sure what all they will entail. I'll keep you posted though, both of you." The Doctor consulted her watch. "It's getting late. I'll give you both some more time alone together." She looked stern. "Just remember she needs peace and quiet right now." Then she smiled and left the room.

Neither Kay nor Josh noticed the Doctor leave; they only had eyes for each other as she buried her head in his chest, his arms encircling her, keeping her safe.

General Hammond settled into his chair and considered the recumbent figure of Jack O'Neill. The younger man looked uncomfortable with the scrutiny and couldn't help but wonder what he'd done wrong.

"What?" His eyes widened. "Sir."

Hammond chuckled. "I don't think you'll ever change, Jack. And I thank God for that."

O'Neill smirked and stretched in the bed. "So, what's up? I didn't expect to see you here, sir."

"President Hayes was worried about you, so he sent me down to help out. Turns out he was right."

"Aww, things were going just fine, sir. Peachy as a matter of fact."

Hammond shifted his feet. "Jack, cut the bull. It's getting deep in here, and you know it."

Jack scowled. "Crap, I wasn't that bad. Was I?" he muttered.

The Texan shook his head. "Listen to me, if that Kay Dow hadn't pulled your fat out of the fire, we wouldn't be having this conversation." He paused. "Good call on recruiting her and her husband, by the way. They're good people."

He shook his head in wonder. "So I didn't imagine her inside my head? She really was there?"

"It appears so. You do realize this opens up a whole other can of worms, don't you?"

Jack paled. "Oh crap, I hadn't thought of that, but you're right. If she has the Ancients gene, then certain other agencies will want to get their sticky paws on her." His fingers carved quotation marks in the air. "Thanks goodness we've cleaned up the NID . . . for the most part anyway. I'll never trust those suckers though, too much bad history."

Hammond nodded his agreement. "According to our latest intel, at least we don't have to worry about The Trust anymore, not since they made the mistake of thinking they could play footsie with the Goa'uld and win. We still don't know for sure what exactly happened to Kinsey though." The head of home-world security shook his head in wonder and shuddered.

Jack didn't blame him. The thought of a universe containing a snakehead a la Kinsey was a bit scary, even for him. That was a fate that even he wouldn't have wished on his worst enemy, and the ex-Vice President had certainly been in the running for that title. He could only hope that the rat bastard was tango uniform, killed when the Prometheus blew up the Al'kesh.

"Has anybody spelled out the full ramifications of this to her yet? I can tell you now that her husband will _not _be a happy camper about this, especially when we slap a security blanket on her."

Hammond sighed. "Not yet, but I plan to talk to them tomorrow morning. They're both spending the night here on base and I figured they needed some time to get used to the news."

"If you don't mind, I'd appreciate being in on that briefing, sir. After all, I am the one who recruited them in the first place and I have the feeling that Kay would welcome a friendly face." At Hammond's nod of agreement, he continued. "But, if I know Josh, he'll have figured it out on his own by morning. He's former military and won't take crap from anybody, not even a general."

Jack held up a hand to forestall any interruption. "Don't get me wrong, he'd die himself before he put his wife in danger, or let anyone hurt her for that matter. You should have seen him after the prison riot. If I hadn't been there . . . Well let's just say that he's one tough cookie. They both are."

A knock on the door revealed the figures of Dr. Brightman and the nurse. Kathy had her tray of needles and lab vials. "Excuse me, sirs. We still have to run some tests on General O'Neill and then I'm going to have to insist that he get some rest."

Jack drew the sheets up to his chin and tucked his arms safely underneath them. "But, I don't wanna. I hate needles. You know that." He screwed a pitiful look on his face. "Haven't I been through enough already?"

Hammond watched with a huge grin on his face. "If you don't cooperate, I can always order her to take more, Jack. Just for GP."

O'Neill shoved the defensive sheet down to his waist in one fluid motion. "You'd do it too," he muttered darkly. "Why is it that all medical folks have this sadistic desire to stick pointy objects into me?"

Nurse Kathy Dalton chuckled as she laid out her equipment. "Don't take it personal, sir. I certainly don't."

tbc


	9. Chapter 9

Title: "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 9

Author: dinkydow

Email: Sequel to "What's Good For The Goose Is Good For The Gander" Part 8, hurt/comfort, drama, UST, romance (sigh).

Pairings: Jack/Sam

Content Level: 18+

Season: Season 8

Spoilers: It will help to read my previous stories and be familiar with Fifth, the Replicators, and Season 8.

Warnings: Some language as this deals with the after effects of rape and violence.

Summary: Jack and Sam are forced to deal with the after-effects of their experiences with Fifth. But they won't do it alone.

Disclaimer: Nope, still don't own any of them. Couldn't afford to if I did and don't have a mountain to hide them in. Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, Gekko Productions do. I wrote this for entertainment and won't be making any money for it, so please don't sue. But, if you guys want any help with scripts, or Jack, just give me a holler.

Dedication: To our fighting men and women and the loved ones who watch them march in harms way.

Author's Notes: Here's another Dinkyfic. Many thanks to Linda and Jolene for being my betas. Thank you also to Jeri for her psychiatric nursing expertise. All original characters are the property of the author and may only be used with my permission.

Kay was awakened the next morning by familiar snoring. Without even opening her eyes, she knew who was making those annoying gurgling and rasping noises. She ought to because she'd lived with that particular snore for almost twenty years and knew every exhale, snort, and restless shift of the male figure slumped in the chair by her bed.

With a gargantuan effort, she pried her eyelids apart. "Josh?"

Her answer was another snort from the gray-haired man who was laying with his face cradled by one arm with drool running between slack lips onto the pillow. From grim experience, she knew better than to startle the combat veteran. Instead she softly called his name again. "Josh?"

Pausing a bit, she took the time to study his weathered features and memorized every care-line, whisker, and twitch of his face. There was still no response, but that was no surprise. Her man had been known to sleep through thunderstorms, loud noisy ones that had her thinking seriously of heading to the storm cellar.

Mischievously, she leaned forward. "Hey, stud." She blew on his face. "Wanna get lucky?"

His thin lips curved into a smile as he moaned. Eyes still closed, his hands slid over the pillow to cup her face. Kay grinned and nibbled on his index finger, eliciting another groan of pleasure from her partner. His rough hands continued to rub her face, and then moved further south to her neck and chest, rubbing her breasts through her hospital scrub top checking her out using the Braille method. Kay moaned with pleasure.

As she watched his sleepy hazel eyes opened. "What?"

"Morning, stud." She smirked.

He licked his lips, and then his eyes widened when he saw where he had his hands. "I was having the strangest dream."

Kay giggled.

"No dream?"

"Nope."

"Again?"

Another giggle and an affirmative nod, "Um hmm." She smiled happily.

He withdrew his hands. "Oh, sorry."

Kay captured his hands. "I'm not. It felt pretty good."

The sound of a chuckle and someone clearing their throat drew Kay's attention.

"I see that you're both awake," announced Dr. Brightman with a wry grin on her face.

Blushing, the counselor resisted her husband's attempts to withdraw his hands from her grasp. "What was your first clue?" She exchanged a grin with her husband. "When can I get out of here?"

"We'll probably be able to release you this morning after we've checked you out. Then you and your husband will be meeting with General O'Neill. He has a few things he needs to discuss with you concerning your new-found abilities."

Kay sobered and then turned to her husband with a look of gratitude as he squeezed her hand reassuringly. Taking a deep breath, she turned back to the Doctor. "Might as well get it over with. What do you need to do?"

Her gaze strayed to her husband's face and she mentally evaluated his thoughts. From experience and the way his eyes glittered under his shaggy eyebrows, she figured that he was in his alpha-male protective mode.

His lips thinned to a severe and unforgiving line as he stared at Dr. Brightman. Then a crimson tongue flickered across his lips, like a snake testing the air currents for the scent of danger. "General O'Neill wants to see us?"

"Yes, I was told that you're supposed to meet with Generals Hammond and O'Neill as soon as I finish up with Kay. In fact, they were most insistent that both of you attend the meeting." As she spoke, she continued toward Kay's bedside removed the stethoscope draped around her neck and hooked the gray rubber-tipped ends around the back of her throat.

By this time, the Doctor was standing next to Kay and reached out to take her wrist. Kay warily pulled both hands out of Josh's protective grasp and submitted to the touch of the physician.

Stoically putting up with the routine of taking vitals, Kay waited patiently until the Doctor had finished. Then the counselor arched a thick eyebrow in question as the Doctor picked up a chart to make notations. "So, does this mean I can go? Am I normal . . . relatively speaking?"

"Yes, Kay. According to my readings, you are okay to go. As for being normal . . . What would you say? Isn't that usually your department?" Brightman chuckled as she looked up from her chart.

Kay bit her lip and shook her head. "I've always said that normal is a setting on a washing machine. Jeez, I feel normal, is that good enough?"

"You feel normal too," Josh quipped, a twinkle in his eye.

"You mean you noticed?" His wife rolled her eyes. "I thought you were asleep."

"I'd know normal even in my sleep," he insisted. His face turned from his wife's to the Doctor. "So, we can go now?"

Her eyes were hopeful as she pushed the sheets away and sat lotus fashion, her palms cupping her knees. Nervously, her thin fingers stroked the cotton of the blue hospital scrubs on her legs.

"Yes, they are expecting you in General O'Neill's room. I haven't released him from the Infirmary yet," the CMO explained.

"Good, I have a lot of questions myself," answered Josh as he stood. He held out his hands in a clear invitation of assistance to his wife and assisted her out of the bed.

General O'Neill shifted uncomfortably in his bed, the trailing IV line pulling against his wrist as he tried to scratch his ear. "Danged power-mongering Doctors," he muttered. He shifted his legs uncomfortably as he tried not to think about the tube installed in his plumbing. "Always sticking their fingers where they don't belong."

'_Crap, They didn't even get rid of the danged backless hospital gown they stuck me in, so even if I could sneak out of here, my ass would be hanging out for all the world to see. Yep, Jack, life is just peachy, ain't it.'_

"If Dr. Brightman hadn't ordered you confined to bed, I would have," tutted Hammond reprovingly. "In case you haven't figured it out by now, you are too valuable to risk. Too much is at stake for you to have a relapse. Why, just twelve hours ago you were totally out of it. So hush your mouth for once, Jack, and listen to what the Doctor has to say."

Jack scowled and wiped his face with his hand. "Crap, sir. I wish you wouldn't put it that way." His eyes skittered away from the gaze of the man sitting next to him. "It makes me sound, oh, I don't know . . ."

"Important?" Hammond pursed his lips and crossed his arms across his chest. "Irreplaceable?"

Jack risked a quick look at him and then looked away from the steely gaze. Instead, he draped a forearm across his eyes in a blatant attempt to block out the inevitable.

"You can run, but you can't hide, Jack."

O'Neill peeked out from under his arm.

"You know the worth of all the knowledge stuffed inside the hard head of yours. And for your information, if I treated you any differently, the President would have my head on a platter and I'd end up looking worse than an armadillo lying tits up on the side of the road." Hammond sighed.

"Right now I can sure relate to that armadillo, sir," Jack mumbled.

"How do you think Kay feels?"

Jack scrubbed his face and frowned. "Crap, you're right . . . as usual. Are we still meeting with her and Josh this morning?"

"As soon as Brightman releases her." He glanced at his watch. "Which shouldn't be long now."

"It's something I'm not looking forward to, but we gotta do it anyway." He sighed and looked at his commander. "Do you ever get sick and tired of the shitty part of command?"

"All the time, Jack." Hammond smiled in sympathetic understanding. "Why else do you think I lost all my hair?" He paused a beat. "It sure wasn't from rubbing it off on the headboard."

Jack choked. "More like putting up with the shenanigans of a not-so-innocent and cooperative bird Colonel, but then we've already established that. Haven't we?"

Hammond nodded, his eyes twinkling.

A hesitant knock on the door had both men turning toward the sound. Standing there were Kay, Josh, and Dr. Brightman.

Kay cleared her throat nervously. "You wanted to see us?"

"Yes, come on in and have a seat. Do we have enough for everybody?" Hammond beckoned with his hand.

"If not, I'll have some more sent in, sir," Brightman assured him.

Jack watched as Josh took his wife's elbow and steered her toward one of the chairs and then sat down next to her. He also didn't miss the challenge in the man's eyes that was directed at him. Knowing him as he did, Jack couldn't say as he blamed the man for wanting to protect his wife and family from whatever, or whoever might threaten them. He'd felt the same way . . . once and would give anything if he could feel it again.

Mentally giving himself a shake, he concentrated on Kay. From his position in his bed, she looked rested but nervous.

'_Well jeez, go figure.'_

"How are you feeling this morning, Kay?"

"Rested and brimful of questions, sir." She bit her lower lip and twisted her hands in her lap.

Hammond nodded. "That's certainly understandable. The reason we're here is to answer some of those questions."

"Good." Josh nodded and leaned forward.

Jack cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow at Hammond, who nodded minutely. "We might as well get started on this. First off, I want to let you both know that as of yesterday afternoon, we've had a security detachment watching your house."

He raised a warning hand as Josh came half out of his chair. "Wait a minute, I'm not through yet. Your family is all right. Our security's been sitting outside your home," his lips thinned into a firm line a he continued, "purely as a precautionary measure; once we have your permission, we plan to transport them up to the base for testing."

"But why?" Kay protested.

"Yeah, just what the hell is going on here?" Josh chimed in.

Jack took a deep breath. "Once we found out just how special Kay was, we knew we had to make doubly sure that her family weren't put in any danger. You see, certain other . . . factions out there might take it into their heads that grabbing Kay and her kids might give them an advantage."

Josh nodded knowingly. "What kind of other factions? Are you talking about spooks that have gone bad?"

"The very same." Jack nodded. "As of last report, they are doing fine, by the way."

"Can I help pick them up?" asked Kay.

"No, honey, I'd better do that. Unless I miss my guess, they won't let you off base right now anyway." Josh turned to O'Neill. "Am I right?"

Hammond and O'Neill nodded.

Kay crossed her arms across her chest. "For how long?" she sputtered.

"At least until we know just exactly what kind of abilities you have," Jack responded firmly.

"I sense an _'and'_." Her eyes narrowed.

"You're damned Skippy you do," Josh agreed with his wife forcefully.

Hammond sighed and broke in. "I understand your concern, but until we know for sure just what we're dealing with, we don't want to take any chances with anyone's safety. You might say that your brain has just been classified top secret, Kay."

She groaned and grabbed the side of her head, interlacing her fingers through her thick hair. "As far as I'm concerned, sirs, you can take this mess off my hands anytime you want to. And as for what I have in my head, you can have that too," she added bitterly.

"Shh, honey." Josh put a protective arm around her shoulder. "I'll go with security to pick up our kids. They'd be scared half to death if anybody else showed up." He smirked. "Not to mention that our babysitter would probably fill them full of holes it they tried to take off with them without our say so."

"I figured as much." Jack smiled approval.

"What kind of tests will you be doing on me and my kids?" Kay asked in a small tremulous voice.

"Nothing intrusive, Kay. We'll mainly be exposing you to various Ancient devices and monitoring how you respond to them. Plus we'll be doing some MRI brain scans to see if we can figure out how you do what you do." She shrugged. "As for your kids, we'll start off with testing their DNA for that special gene."

"Oh." Her brow wrinkled in obvious thought. "How long will all this take? I still have a job to do, and patients I'm supposed to be seeing," she added pointedly.

"Ah, well that's not as important as . . ." Jack waved his hand dismissively until he was interrupted by his boss.

"I don't see why you can't do both. Dr. Brightman, is Kay well enough to see patients between tests?"

"Yes, I was going to release her from the Infirmary later today," confirmed the Doctor. "And Colonel Carter is well enough to be seen this afternoon."

"You're sure about that?" Jack wrinkled his nose in disgust. "I wouldn't want to put a strain on her, you know."

"Yes!" Kay grinned and pumped her arm in a triumphant gesture. "I believe you and Colonel Carter are in desperate need of having your heads shrinked." She put the tip of her index finger to her lips and cocked her head. "Or would that be shrunk? Or perhaps shrank?"

"Whatever," Jack and Kay said simultaneously.

Hammond rolled his eyes, while Josh just smirked.

Then the Texan general sobered. "Seriously, Kay. I want to assure you that we don't intend to hold you or your kids prisoner here. We'll let you all go back home as quickly as it's safe to do so. But, first we need to get a handle on what we're dealing with. And to tell you the truth, I'd feel like I'd let you down if I let you go home right now and something did happen to you. When it comes to things like this, I always go with safety first."

Kay looked down at her hands laced in her lap. "I understand, sir. That doesn't mean that I like it, but I do understand." She looked up at her husband. "When will you be going to pick up our kids? And could you pick up a few of my things for me?"

"As soon as I can, and yes, of course I can pick up a few things for you. Just give me a list and I'll do my best to bring it all back for you," Josh replied with an understanding smile.

"Thanks." She patted her husband's arm, and her smile lit up her face and blue eyes; to Jack it demonstrated better than mere words could just how relieved she felt.

"After they get here I can spend some time with them too," she said as she swept her hair back from her eyes with her fingers.

"Of course you can," Jack assured her.

"Well, we might as well get this show on the road then." Kay sighed pushed her glasses back into place on her nose.

"I agree." Hammond stood and gestured toward Josh. "We can be ready to head for your home within the hour, Josh."

"Wait a minute, please?" Kay took a deep breath and looked steadily at O'Neill and Hammond. "What do you want me to do first?"

"Doc? I believe that's your ball of wax." Jack shrugged and waved his unfettered hand, urging Dr. Brightman to take over. He watched as she explained about the tests, letting himself relax down into the pillows of his bed. His eyes narrowed thoughtfully when his gaze rested on Kay.

The counselor appeared to be adjusting to her change of circumstances just fine. But then again, maybe he shouldn't have been all that surprised, given what he already knew about her and her line of work. He couldn't help but wonder what life had in store for the unusual woman that was sitting next to his bed, but whatever it was, he had the impression that by hook or by crook, she would find a way to handle it.

And he also had the feeling that he would be there with her, dealing with whatever the universe threw at them, for somehow, for whatever reason, their lives were linked now, thanks to a gene that, though accidental, they'd both been born with. Come to think of it, Kay would probably argue that it was all part of God's plan.

Be that as it may, for whatever reason, they both had gotten stuck with the gene, and the responsibilities that went along with it. And she hadn't even had to have her head sucked, either, not that he would wish that experience on anybody. But for whatever reason, they were in the same boat and together would discover what that meant for them and their world. All he knew for sure was that it was likely to be one heck of a bumpy ride, yeah, fun, but bumpy.

The end


End file.
